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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29348778">Welcome to the Jungle</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePreciousHeart/pseuds/Blue%20M%20Hart'>Blue M Hart (ThePreciousHeart)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wayne's World (1992)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arguing, Arson, Awkward Tension, Bar Room Brawl, Bars and Pubs, Bisexuality, Bonding, Busking, Clothing descriptions, Comfort, Concerts, Conversations, Developing Friendships, Drinking, Drinking Games, Drunk Twister, Eventual Romance, F/F, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, Girl Band, Hotels, LOTS of clothing descriptions, Laundry, Lesbian Character, Let Cassandra Wong Say Fuck, Musicians, OC-centric, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Partying, Performing Arts, Post-Break Up, Questioning, Relationship Advice, Rock and Roll, Shopping Malls, Slow Burn, Smoking, Song Lyrics, Songwriting, Stealth Crossover, Television Watching, Tour Bus, Touring, made up lyrics, pot brownies, the mega happy ending is canon, the sequel never happened</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:40:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>69,403</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29348778</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePreciousHeart/pseuds/Blue%20M%20Hart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Crucial Taunt is on their first national tour, but Cassandra Wong is not happy. Maybe it’s the unimpressive venues, maybe it’s her recent breakup with a certain partygoer. When her group joins forces with another rock band, her spirits begin to lift, especially after forming a strong friendship with their drummer. But is it really friendship? And will said partygoer take the news lying down?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cassandra Wong/Original Female Character, Original Character/Original Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Blue's Fic Drop Fridays</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Except For the Fact That It Isn't</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>In 2020, I realized three things. 1. I have never written or posted an F/F romance fic. 2. I really, REALLY miss live music. 3. I am in love with Cassandra Wong. I thought I’d take the opportunity while I felt inspired.</p><p>This fic is working off the premise that Wayne’s World 2 never happened. Nothing against Wayne’s World 2 (at least, nothing against it that I can safely fit into an author’s note without going on a tangent), it’s just that the arc of Wayne &amp; Cassandra’s characters in that movie doesn’t fit into where I want this story to go. This means there are certain things from that movie that aren’t canon here- we’ll get to that when we get to that.</p><p>My knowledge of how touring &amp; the music industry works comes from the experience of my friends who are in indie bands, plus some personal experience. Naturally, the industry has changed a lot in over 20 years, so don’t expect this fic to ring entirely true for the time period. Most of the venues mentioned in this fic are real, but some are not. I have not been to any of them and am basing my descriptions off what I’ve read online.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> May 1993 </em>
</p><p>       If there was a more disappointing place on Earth than Blue Heron Brewery in Los Angeles, California, Cassandra Wong couldn’t imagine it. She’d already had her fill of scowling, but if Marc’s hurried scurry from her path was any indicator, her dismay could still be sensed from space. <em> Probably the better for it. </em>The last thing Cassandra needed was another stab at consolation from her frustratingly-unfazed bandmates.</p><p>       “Nobody <em> knows </em>us here, Cassandra,” Anthony had insisted, the only member of Crucial Taunt who’d dared to stomp all over Cassandra’s eggshells. “They’re not gonna roll out the red carpet, even if we are on Sharp Records. What were you expecting, the Hollywood Bowl?”</p><p>       “No, but I wasn’t expecting… <em> this.” </em>Usually, Cassandra didn’t mind Anthony’s grit and irreverence. If the entire band blindly followed her lead, she wouldn’t have wanted them as her band in the first place. But in Cassandra’s sleep-deprived and rather pissed-off state, Anthony’s words grated her. “We played clubs back in Aurora that were bigger than this brewery.”</p><p>        “Yeah, but this is LA, baby.” Anthony tapped his knuckles under Cassandra’s chin, an irritating smirk growing on his face. “D’you know how many places they have to play at around here? Just be grateful we got booked at <em> one.” </em></p><p><em>        Yeah, sure I’m grateful. </em> Cassandra shoved her hands in her pockets as she emerged from the venue, eager to put it behind her. <em> This venue is nothing compared to the Gasworks. </em>It seemed strange to miss a place so familiar, so common, while on a nationwide tour. But the palm trees and lush mountains held little enticement for Cassandra. After what had happened in Portland, very few things did.</p><p>       A dark-haired figure lounged against the railing by the sidewalk, cigarette in hand. It was only when Cassandra came up beside him that she realized it was George. <em> Goodness, the guy’s got to cut his hair. He and Marc look too much alike. </em></p><p>“So what do you think?” she said, settling back against the railing and fixing George with a quizzical eye. He sighed.</p><p>       “Do you want me to say I hate it, ‘cause… I can lie to make you feel better.”</p><p>       Cassandra shook her head “It won’t make me feel better if I know it’s a lie.”</p><p>       “Okay, so… I spoke too soon.” George turned to Cassandra, offering his cigarette, but Cassandra shook her head. Absent-minded as he was, George often forgot that she didn’t smoke. Her throat was already sore from screaming onstage in Oakland the past night.</p><p>      After a moment, Cassandra decided she’d better broach the subject.  “I started a new song.”</p><p>     George met her halfway. “Yeah? Need any help?” The mere mention of writing a song lit him up from the inside like a lantern. <em> That’s got to be a good sign. </em>Anthony would flat-out refuse, and Marc was off in his own world nine times out of ten, which meant George was Cassandra’s best bet for a songwriting partner.</p><p>       “Actually, I was wondering if you would give me a verse.” Cassandra folded her arms across her chest and cleared her throat. “I’ve only got the chorus so far. It goes: <em> ‘He’s a lost cause, baby, better knock him flat. Move along, move along, he’ll be just fine. He’s a lost cause, baby, and you’re better than that. Give it up, give it up, don’t waste your--” </em></p><p>       She choked on her words as George broke in, a wary note in his voice. “Is this about Wayne?”</p><p>       <em> Dammit. </em> Cassandra shot George a “who do you <em> think </em>it’s about” look. He sighed.</p><p>       “I hate to pull the ‘Wayne’s my friend’ card…”</p><p>       “But, Wayne’s your friend and you don’t want to insult him,” Cassandra murmured, sullen. So much for driving five hours the night before with the radio turned off and the A/C blowing in her face, humming the same notes over and over because her tape recorder was out of reach.</p><p>      “Well, no, but also yes.” George took a drag from his cigarette and released the smoke in a long stream before continuing. “I dunno, Cass. The song doesn’t speak for all of us. That’s not what Crucial Taunt is about.”</p><p>       “What about when you and Anthony wrote ‘Touch Me’ and wanted me to sing it because sex sells?” Cassandra countered. “Look how well that turned out!” She still couldn’t believe the way audiences responded to the song, even those who’d never heard it before. <em> Of course, they’re probably just excited because they want to go to bed with me. </em>But applause was applause, no matter the reason for it.</p><p>       “That’s… <em> different.” </em> George turned to Cassandra, looking her dead in the eye. “It’s not airing dirty laundry.” He held up his hand before Cassandra could cut in. “I know the way <em> you’d </em>do it would sound classy, but you gotta think of the band.”</p><p>       “I <em> am </em>thinking of the band.” Cassandra uncrossed her arms. “That’s all I ever do.”</p><p>      She and George held their gaze for a moment, before George looked away, shrugging. “You said it yourself. He’s not worth it.”</p><p>       Cassandra’s eyes shifted to the ground. The worst part was, she agreed with George. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t still hurt. That didn’t mean she lacked the urge to vent her feelings through art. <em> What good is writing a song if I can’t use it to express myself? </em></p><p>She took her leave of George with a tight nod, before making her way through the brewery’s parking lot. God, she was sweating. Why had she decided to put on skinny jeans that morning? At least her white ruffled tank top afforded some comfort, and her overly-large sunglasses shielded her eyes from harm. It was sure to be sweltering even worse in the van- optimistically dubbed the “Silver Bullet”- but that was bound to be the only place she could catch a few winks before the show.</p><p>       Cassandra’s hopes were dashed when she reached the Silver Bullet and rolled back the sliding door to find Anthony awash in a cloud of smoke. He lay chest-up on the bare mattress that the boys had shoved behind the backseats, denim vest unbuttoned and eyes covered with shades. Cassandra wafted the smoke with her hands, coughing. “Anthony! If you’re gonna smoke in here, why don’t you crack open the window?”</p><p>       Silently, Anthony sat up and pointed to the nearest window. Cassandra squinted to find that he had done exactly as she said- opened it a crack. She hopped into the van and seated herself. “You’ll have to open it more than that.”</p><p>       “C’mon, Cassandra,” Anthony groaned in protest. “Could you stop mothering us for one minute?”</p><p>      Cassandra folded one leg over the other. “You know what you signed up for.”</p><p>      “Man.” Anthony stubbed out the remainder of his cigarette in the ashtray beside the mattress. “But that was when you used to be <em> fun</em>. I don’t think I’ve heard you joke around since Portland.”</p><p>       A tight, hot feeling filled Cassandra’s chest. “Don’t talk about Portland.”</p><p>       “For the love of…” Anthony shook his head exaggeratedly, sending his sunglasses flying off his face. “We’re not even halfway through the tour. Are you really going to let what happened back there ruin things for us?” He crossed his legs and fumbled around for his cigarette packet. “I mean, you could <em> try </em> to be excited about the fact that we’re on tour, and we’re hot, and the audiences love us, but <em> no, </em>you’d rather sit around feeling sorry for yourself ‘cause we lost our merch guys.”</p><p>       Cassandra eyed Anthony. “That’s not <em> all </em>they were.”</p><p>       “Oh, sure. So I’m supposed to feel sad for <em> you </em> because you broke up with your boyfriend?” Finding his cigarettes, Anthony snuck them into his vest’s pocket, before kicking open the back. “Face it, Cass. Everything’s <em> fine. </em> Never better! If you can’t see that, I don’t know what to tell ya.” With that, Anthony crawled out of the Silver Bullet and carefully slammed the back shut.</p><p>       “You better not smoke in here anymore!” Cassandra yelled, though she doubted Anthony could hear her. “You could start a fire!”</p><p>       When no response came, she grudgingly dragged herself up behind the seats and onto the mattress. The air still reeked of smoke, so Cassandra rolled the windows down further, before tumbling backwards and closing her eyes. Her clasped hands rested on her stomach, the faint sound of cars and chirping birds providing a peaceful soundtrack. But Cassandra’s agitation wouldn’t leave. Perhaps she hadn’t been treating her bandmates fairly lately, but she’d expected at least one of them to take her side. Talking to them nowadays was like pushing against a brick wall, and it was all because of what Wayne Campbell and Garth Algar had done.</p><p>        <em> Ugh. </em>Cassandra scrunched her eyes shut tighter, trying to force sleep to come. She didn’t want to spend another second going over what had happened in Portland and what she could have done differently. What her negativity boiled down to, really, was that this wasn’t at all the smooth course she'd envisioned for Crucial Taunt’s first nationwide tour. It was true, they were on top. Every show had killed so far, and the chance to sightsee across the country that had adopted her as its own excited her. And yet, due to a certain someone, Cassandra wasn’t satisfied.</p><p>       She reached over, past Anthony’s ashtray, to grab the tape recorder that she’d broken out the moment the Silver Bullet had reached its destination the night before. Once Cassandra and the boys had settled into the house of the musician that had agreed to board them, and once she’d dragged her suitcase into the corner of the guest bedroom, she’d hit Record to whisper feverish lines into the night air. Listening back to her quiet voice, however, gave her no insight on what to add to the song. The desire to release her demons still pressed on her, but she couldn’t figure out just how to do so. </p><p>        <em> Sure, Anthony, everything’s fine… except for the fact that it isn’t. </em></p><p>*</p><p>       As far as Cassandra was concerned, the only major upside to playing a show in a brewery was the chance to freely sample their products. She made herself at home by the bar, sipping an IPA and allowing the first act of the night to wash over her. The band, a garage-punk trio called Kiss the Dirt, also happened to be the ones who’d agreed to house Crucial Taunt for the duration of their stay in Los Angeles. Wayne was the one who’d gotten in touch with them, a fact that Cassandra had been trying to forget. She had to admit, though, she admired his hard work. <em> If there’s anything Wayne’s good at, it’s the hustle. </em>And it had certainly paid off, given that the house was a nice one, if one minded the dirty laundry and overwhelming weed stench.</p><p>        The only opinion Cassandra managed to form of Kiss the Dirt’s sound was that they were… loud. The singer’s shouty lyrics flew over her head, and the jagged guitar gnashed at her eardrums, like two rocks grinding together. However, they were tight, and in Cassandra’s slightly buzzed and more than a little melancholy state, the noise was exactly what she needed. She closed her eyes and bobbed her head, absorbing the music into her soul. Rock and roll never failed to provide solace. Who had time to reflect on life’s miseries when a band was performing on full blast mere feet away?</p><p>       “Thank you!” the singer shouted as the drummer’s cymbals crashed a final time, leaving Cassandra’s ears ringing. “We’re Kiss the Dirt! Coming up next, Crucial Taunt!”</p><p>       <em> That’s our cue. </em>Immediately Cassandra rose from her seat, taking her drink with her, and headed over to where Anthony had unpacked his drum set. From the far end of the room, George and Marc emerged. With the Christmas lights strung ‘round the bar providing the room’s only brightness- not counting the spotlight trained on the performance space- it appeared as if they’d magically manifested from the shadows.</p><p>       The first thing Cassandra said to Anthony was, “You haven’t got a drink.” Nonplussed, Anthony twirled a drumstick in the air. “Figured we can’t do shots tonight.”</p><p>       “Man, c’mon,” Marc announced, raising his glass in the air. “Let’s make it a toast instead.”</p><p>       Cassandra arched an eyebrow. “Are you drunk already?”</p><p>       “Cass, please.” George nudged Marc, who grinned in a carefree manner. “This is Marc we’re talking about. Even he doesn’t know the difference.”</p><p>       Marc laughed and playfully shoved George, who retaliated by poking him in the ribs. Though Anthony stayed idle, he snickered at their antics. Watching the boys clowning around gradually eased Cassandra’s spirits. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe, as Anthony had all but stated, she really was making mountains out of molehills. Cassandra stepped forward, interrupting her friends with a thrust of her drink. </p><p>       “What are we going to toast?”</p><p>       “To Hollywood?” George suggested, dodging a swipe from Marc.</p><p>      “Sure,” Anthony agreed. “Why not.”</p><p>       “To Hollywood,” Cassandra echoed. Three real glasses, plus an invisible one, clinked together. They each downed what was left of their beer. Then Cassandra glanced over to what would have been called a stage, had it possessed any form of elevation.</p><p>      “All right. Let’s go.”</p><p>       After a quick tuning-up and checking of levels, Crucial Taunt were off and running. Playing at floor level wasn’t a new experience for Cassandra, but it had been so long since she’d done so that it took her several songs to adjust. Faces usually crowded the stage when Crucial Taunt played, long hair flailing as they headbanged. This time, however, Cassandra could hardly make out the audience, so far away from the band they were standing. The scattered applause didn’t help matters, either. On the one hand, a mellow reaction was to be expected for a baby band on their first tour. <em> Kiss the Dirt didn’t have a huge turnout, </em>Cassandra reminded herself. But on the other hand, the sound of chatter throughout the performance tore at her, contrasting painfully with the explosive reception that had always welcomed Crucial Taunt at the Gasworks. </p><p>       The more Cassandra played, the more she longed to return home, or at least the place she’d called home for the last five years of her life. Not only did she wish to go back to Aurora, to the clubs who loved her, but she longed to go back in time as well. Back before she’d taken Wayne’s suggestion to tour “the old-fashioned way.” Back before he and Garth had imposed themselves on her, announcing themselves as her merch sellers. Back before Portland, before Oakland, before LA, to the moment that Crucial Taunt had been asked to join Sharp Records. <em> Back to the last good thing he ever did for me. </em></p><p><em>        “Sometimes we get lost in the night,” </em> she sang. How ironic that the first song she'd ever written solo, about a failed relationship, had swung full circle to resonate with her today. If it hadn’t been the only ballad in Crucial Taunt’s set, Cassandra would have yanked it off the list. <em> “Sometimes we get lost in our lies. But I didn’t want to lose you…” </em></p><p><em>        He’s not worth it, </em> George had said. <em> He’s not worth it, </em> her inner voice shouted every day. <em> I’m not worth it, </em> Wayne had all but told Cassandra himself. </p><p>
  <em>         “Maybe it’s not in the cards. Why’d you let me down so hard? When all I ever wanted was to love you… “ </em>
</p><p>Dammit, why was she the only one who couldn’t believe it?</p><p>       It was only towards the end of Crucial Taunt’s set that Cassandra noticed that the crowd of people hanging in the back had thickened. She ran her palm over the microphone, studiously observing the newcomers. Their arrival had charged the air with energy, as if the show hadn’t officially started until that very minute. A few onlookers clapped, but most scurried over to meet their incoming friends or huddled around the bar.</p><p>       “Thanks again! We’re Crucial Taunt!” Cassandra grinned broadly to obscure her disappointment with the crowd. “Coming up next is Supermarine, so stick around!” She’d spoken to a few members of Kiss the Dirt on the phone before booking the gig, but the makeup of Supermarine remained a mystery. However, as she glanced around the buzzing room, which had felt so lifeless before, she began to understand why her band hadn’t been asked to close the night.</p><p>       “Damn,” Anthony murmured as soon as he was out of the range of the mics. “Where was all that support when <em> we </em> were playing?”</p><p>       “Hey, it’s no big deal.” Cassandra pulled her guitar strap over her head before smacking Anthony’s arm. “After all, no one knows who we are, remember?”</p><p>       Ignoring his glower, she packed up her bass and hauled it over to the bar. Her gaze swept the room as she perched atop the barstool, trying to identify the members of Supermarine. All she knew about them was that they were another rock band, one that Greg from Kiss the Dirt had said she’d probably get along with. Though Cassandra didn’t spot any potential musicians, she noticed that several of the people who’d just walked into the brewery sported matching T-shirts. Beneath the letters SUPERMARINE was a screen-printed image of a snarling shark.</p><p>       Anthony walked past the bar with Marc, still grumbling about the lackluster audience and the new arrivals who’d missed the whole thing. Ordinarily Cassandra would have tuned into his wavelength, but her curiosity over just who had drawn such a crowd eradicated her displeasure. Eventually, her people-watching paid off. From the group of assembled fans emerged a woman with a bass guitar case in hand. Her hair was wound in short, platinum blonde curls, her skin peaches-and-cream and her smile framed by dimples. Following her were two other women who held hands, one dark and and curvy and clutching a guitar case, her wavy black hair in a ponytail, and the other a small, pale waif with smudged eyeliner and a messy brown pixie cut. Finally, a sturdily-built, tanned woman brought up the rear, her eyes the color of luscious chocolate and her smile revealing a chipped front tooth. She sported a dark pixie cut much like the waifish woman, but hers was more unkempt, with a buzzed underside. All four women wore black T-shirts with the sleeves cut out, and jeans so tattered Cassandra was sure the rips weren’t just a stylistic choice.</p><p>        <em> This must be Supermarine. </em>Cassandra watched, fascinated, as the women plugged in their instruments, assembled their drum set, and checked the microphones. While they did so, the same folks who’d gabbed and drunk their way through Crucial Taunt’s set surged forward, positioning themselves up close to the floor speakers. A heavy sigh drew Cassandra’s attention to the seat next to her. George was sitting there, his elbow resting on the bar and his cheek in his palm. He looked about as glum as Cassandra had felt before the show, yet somehow, the emotion was absent from Cassandra. She glanced back to the performance area, where soundcheck was coming to a close.</p><p>       “Check... check… Um, this okay?” The small brunette scratched the back of her head as she searched the darkness for the sound guy, her words underscored with a blast from the ponytail-wearing woman's guitar. The audience reacted pleasurably. One person even let out a cheer, which caused a few titters. Cassandra’s eyebrows jumped up. This band had barely touched their instruments, but already they held the audience in the palm of their hands, exactly the way that Cassandra was used to doing.</p><p>       “All right,” the singer said, responding to an unheard go-ahead. She turned around and nodded to the other brunette, who was now seated behind the drums. A quick countdown, and suddenly a jangly guitar riff blasted through the air, sending an authentic cheer rising from the crowd.</p><p>       From the first few notes, Cassandra found herself hooked. This was far more engaging than Kiss the Dirt had been. Her eyes were glued to the band members’ swinging hips and bobbing heads. Looking overjoyed, Supermarine’s singer swayed the microphone in her arms, before removing it from the stand and holding it up to her lips.</p><p>       <em> “You are nothing more</em></p><p>
  <em>       “Than a rock I use to prop open my door </em>
</p><p>
  <em>        “And you’d better drop dead </em>
</p><p>
  <em>       “Before I find out who’s been sleeping in my bed.” </em>
</p><p>The voice that came out of the singer surprised Cassandra. With such delicate features and a humble demeanor, she’d half-expected the band to drown her out, but her vocals dominated the mix, gritty and raw. She sounded as if she’d spent the previous night drinking whiskey and smoking cigarettes, on top of having a terrible cold. However, there was a control and focus in the notes she was hitting, rather than just vomiting the song onto the floor.</p><p>       The song quieted, the bassist and drummer providing soft “Oooh’s” to support their singer as she sang with her eyes half-lidded. <em> “Little Miss Goldilocks says ‘I can explain.’ Now it’s Mama Bear stuck with the blame…” </em> She widened her eyes and lunged forward. <em> “Oh yeah!”  </em></p><p>      The crowd lunged forward too, breaking into wild headbanging as the guitar took over. Cassandra found herself nodding along as well. Part of her couldn’t believe her own reaction. Since the tour started, she’d sat through sets just to be polite, but none of the bands she’d heard so far had ignited her belly with fire. None of them made her want to whip her head around, to lose herself to the music and forget what anyone else thought of her. Here Supermarine was, not even halfway through their first song, and somehow they deserved the honors? But there wasn’t any point in questioning it- Cassandra just wanted to enjoy the moment while it lasted.</p><p>       Supermarine raced through several quick, fiery numbers, each one garnering them a more impressive reaction from the audience than the last. Cassandra was among those impressed. She forgot her fresh drink at her elbow, her bandmates sitting around her, the troubles that had broken out several tour stops ago. All she could concentrate on were those spine-tingling riffs and that gut-punch of a voice. When was the last time live music had moved her in such a way? She couldn’t say. She’d grown used to it in Aurora, heading out to the clubs to socialize and support her friends rather than to actually <em> hear </em> them. But Supermarine reminded Cassandra of why she had decided to pursue her musical dreams in the first place. Their infectiousness was reminiscent of the first rock records Cassandra had ever listened to, The Clash and Deep Purple and Motorhead. And yet Cassandra had never seen anything like them before. She’d never even met another woman who played rock and roll, not in Aurora, but here were four of them right in front of her.</p><p>       “Whew!” The voice of Supermarine’s singer carried over the roaring crowd, her eyes roaming fondly around the room. “Thank you! Are you having a good time?”</p><p>      Cassandra applauded, joining the crowd in their affirmation. A pleased smile came to the singer’s face. “This next song features our drummer, Leigh!” She turned to the drummer and applauded with the enthusiasm of a hyper child. </p><p>       <em> Leigh. </em>Cassandra zeroed in on the name. It was the only one the band had given for the duration of their set. Leigh, the chip-toothed drummer with the scraggly hair, smiled politely, but without full conviction, as if she were unused to being put on the spot. She began a soft rhythm, and the band jumped in.</p><p>        <em> “Come to the bar, drop off your keys.” </em>Both Leigh’s voice and the sudden shift in mood and tempo took Cassandra aback. She’d expected Leigh to sound just like their nasally singer, but she sang hesitantly, her voice thick and centered in the back of her throat. <em>“I’m calling you out, all you hear is please.”  </em>The song was a surprise too, as the first slow song that Cassandra had heard all night, minus "Why You Wanna Break My Heart." With the guitar’s light touch and the lack of their singer’s dominating vocals, it was a lot frothier and more pop-oriented than anything that had proceeded it, as well.</p><p>       <em> “</em>Leigh squeezed her eyes shut, her words escaping in a husky alto. <em> “Was there something in your eyes that I failed to criticize? Just tell me you’re still mine, sweet Emily.” </em></p><p>        Another name. Cassandra wondered if it was relevant. She’d never mentioned anyone she knew in her songs, not directly anyway. It struck her as brave that Supermarine had chosen not to obscure the song’s subject. Although the song's energy was considerably lower than the rest of the band's set, Supermarine  hadn’t lost their audience’s attention. Some stood with their eyes closed, nodding softly, while others leaned back into their partner’s arms. At the sight of the couples, Cassandra’s heart twisted, and she turned her attention back to Supermarine. </p><p>       That was when she noticed it. As the rest of the band played, lost in the fabric of the song, Leigh screwed her eyes shut. Her voice began to shake, and the closer Cassandra peered at her, the more convinced she became that she was crying. The droplets running down her face looked nothing like sweat from the overhead spotlight.</p><p>        <em> Wow. </em>Leigh’s display of emotion left Cassandra stunned in her seat. She gingerly glanced around, wondering if anyone else had noticed the tears, and if they felt uncomfortable. However, if anything, the crowd appeared even more enraptured. When the song ended, they broke into hearty applause, and Cassandra was right there with them.</p><p>       Part of her couldn’t believe what had happened. This tough-as-nails band had just spent a good chunk of their time spitting out angry, rhythm-driven songs, but when they’d attempted a mournful number, the audience hadn’t turned on them. They’d shown their strength before tearing it down, and they’d been praised for doing so, not rejected. It was an attitude Cassandra had never considered before.</p><p>       She lost herself to the last few songs, thrashing around as much as she could in her seat, but the instant the show was over, she stood up. Like a magnet, Supermarine’s positivity had beckoned to Cassandra’s negativity, and she burned with the desire to know more about them.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Inspiration for <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hXqce8bzm5c">"Goldilocks" by Supermarine</a></p><p>Inspiration for <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GJav7CZlgyA">"Emily" by Supermarine</a> (for overall vibe; melody stolen from "Whatsername" by Green Day)</p><p>Giving credit where it's due: "Everything's fine, except for the fact that it isn't" is a line from the song by Jeffrey Lewis that shares the same name as this chapter.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. At the Crossroads</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cassandra gets to know Supermarine.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>              Once Supermarine had cleared their equipment and instruments from the performance area, Cassandra wasted no time. Through the dispersing crowd, she spotted Supermarine’s singer and guitarist settling down at a table in the back. Cassandra surged towards them, passing concertgoers discussing the show and searching for their misplaced keys.</p><p>        Two full glasses of beer awaited the musicians at the table- apparently one of their fans had put the order in while they were playing. A few people lingered nearby, congratulating the musicians on a show well done, and in return Cassandra could hear them profusely thanking them. The guitarist had slung her arm around the singer’s shoulders, and the singer had curled up against her breast. As they talked, they made no attempt to untangle themselves. Cassandra waited for the enthusiastic fans to leave before approaching the melodic section of the band with a tentative smile.</p><p>      “Hey.” She spread her hands as she reached the edge of the table, mindful of the musicians’ space. It always took her a few moments to decompress after a show, so she imagined the same went for others. “You guys were amazing tonight.”</p><p>       “Thank you!” the singer piped cheerily, her eyes sparkling. Now that the show was over, her voice had returned to a soft murmur. Cassandra suspected part of it was from the toll the performance had taken on her vocals. The guitarist smiled as if Cassandra were a close friend she’d known for years. “Your band was amazing too! We heard you as we were coming in. You sell your soul at the crossroads or something?”</p><p>      The abruptness of the inquiry made Cassandra laugh. “You must be mistaking me for Marc. My guitarist? He’s the real axe murderer of the band.”</p><p>       “Mmm, Marc doesn’t have your voice, though.” The guitarist extended a hand. “What’d you say your name was?”</p><p>       “Cassandra.” Cassandra shook the guitarist’s hand, while the singer shyly raised hers in greeting. “We’re from Illinois.”</p><p>       “I’m Tamanna. We’re local, but I guess you figured that.” Tamanna gestured to the woman on her arm. “This is Sara.”</p><p>       “Sara.” Cassandra smiled. “Your vocals are incredible.”</p><p>      “Thanks,” Sara half-whispered. “So are yours.” She reached out and took a swig from her glass.</p><p>       “How long are you in LA?” Tamanna asked. “You just came for the show?”</p><p>       “We’re on tour,” Cassandra explained. “Last night we were in Oakland, and tomorrow we’ll be in San Diego.”</p><p>      “Nice!” Tamanna picked up her glass. “We’ve done some shows in Oakland. I think that was where we opened for Wyld Stallyns?” She glanced at Sara, who nodded in confirmation. </p><p>       “You opened for Wyld Stallyns?” Cassandra exclaimed. “My b--” She caught herself. Not <em> boyfriend. </em> “My ex <em> loved </em>those guys.”</p><p>       “Yeah, it was a good time,” Tamanna reflected. “Nice guys. Not the sharpest tools in the shed, but they’ve got a fun sound.”</p><p>       Cassandra nodded in agreement. “Do you play around here a lot?”</p><p>      “Oh, sure.” Removing her arm from around Sara’s shoulders, Tamanna sipped her drink, while Sara clasped her glass in both hands. When Tamanna was through drinking, she set the glass down. “This is like our… sixth time playing at the brewery? And we do shows all over town. We’ve played at the Coconut Teaszer… Macondo… we opened once at Whiskey a Go Go...”</p><p>      “Whiskey a Go Go?” The more names that shot out of Tamanna’s mouth, the more impressed Cassandra became. “I always dreamed of playing there!” </p><p>       “You should try to book it for your next tour, it’s really not that hard to get in as an opener,” Tamanna said. “I mean, depending on how good your agent is.”</p><p>       “We don’t have an agent,” Cassandra said. <em> Though we really should. </em>“I’m guessing you do?”</p><p>      “Yeah,” said Tamanna. “They gave us one when we signed with Studio X Records.”</p><p>       The label wasn’t one that Cassandra had heard of, but given Supermarine’s sizable fanbase and lavish bookings, she assumed that they had some clout in the business. <em> Shame I’ve never heard of this band before. </em>If their sound had reached Aurora, she would have fallen for them immediately. </p><p>“Is your music out?” she asked, now that her musings had nudged her down such a path. “I’d love to buy a copy.”</p><p>        “Yeah, hey!” The languid Tamanna grew perkier, sitting up straight in her seat. “You can go talk to Leigh about that. I think she’s sitting at the bar?”</p><p>       “Oh!” Cassandra glanced around, back to the bar that she’d just left. As Tamanna had said, there sat Leigh, the drummer whose emotional performance from earlier had cracked Cassandra’s heart. In Cassandra’s mind, she glowed like a bioluminescent sea creature, presenting a tantalizing form. “Yeah, I’d love to talk to Leigh.” She tried not to sound too eager. “Thanks!”  </p><p>       “No problem.” Tamanna lifted her hand. “Nice meeting you, Cassandra.” If Sara said a word, Cassandra didn’t hear it. The last she saw of them before she turned her back was Sara threading her fingers through Tamanna’s as Tamanna leaned back in her seat.</p><p>       Several people accosted Cassandra on her way to the bar, thanking her for a rockin’ show, but their words fell on deaf ears. When she reached the bar, the object of her attention was occupied. George had moved over to sit beside Leigh, chattering in his manic way that either meant he was excited, or he was nervous. <em> Or maybe both.  </em></p><p>“That song was just--” he was saying. “I mean, wow. That’s some heavy stuff. Um…” He fumbled frantically through his pockets. “Hey, I don’t know about you but they gave us these drink tickets before the show, I was wondering if you’d like anything--”</p><p>       “Yeah, I know,” Leigh interrupted. Her finger traced idle designs in the condensation on her glass. The cool way she regarded George reminded Cassandra of a cat that one of her friends in Aurora owned. Ordinarily it stared blankly when Cassandra tried to engage it with toys, but when it thought Cassandra wasn’t looking, it would pounce on one and roll around with it. “I’ve got drink tickets too.”</p><p>      “Oh, yeah…” George made a strange face, somewhere between a grimace and a sheepish smile. “Right, I-- I’m sorry, I just thought…”</p><p>       “Hey, George,” Cassandra announced, pulling out the stool beside Leigh. She hopped up and pointed to Leigh as the latter swiveled around to face her. “Leigh, right?”</p><p>       “Yeah.” Leigh reached out to shake Cassandra’s hand. “I loved what I heard of your set, man. You were fantastic.”</p><p>       “Thanks.” Cassandra let go of Leigh’s hand. “I’m Cassandra.” In the bar’s dim lighting, there was something she found enchanting about Leigh, more so than when the hot stage lights had formed a halo around her. Perhaps it was because she seemed more comfortable now that the show was over. Or maybe because she was now staring at Cassandra with the interest that her interaction with George had lacked.</p><p>        “Right, Cassandra.” Leigh’s smile seemed detached, but not in an off-putting way. “You guys are on tour? I think I would’ve remembered seeing you before.”</p><p>       “Yeah, we’re from Illinois.” Cassandra cast a quick glance downwards, suddenly feeling like she had no idea where to put her hands. Strange- she wasn’t used to feeling so vulnerable around other musicians, or around anyone, really. Yet with Leigh around, she wanted to be on her best behavior, as if she were having dinner with a bunch of relatives she’d been told to impress. “This is our first tour.”</p><p>       “Hey, right on.” The more Leigh smiled, the harder it was not to notice the chip in her front tooth, and the easier it was to wonder what had happened to it. Cassandra tried not to fixate on her mouth as she spoke. “How’s the road life treating you?”</p><p>       “It’s not bad--” Cassandra began.</p><p>       “Great, actually,” George jumped in. “We’ve been down most of the West Coast, and we’re traveling to San Diego tomorrow. I gotta tell ya, I love it out here. Every night’s a party.” He flashed an overly-eager smile, but Leigh hardly glanced at him, her face tightening with discomfort.</p><p>        <em> If only George could take a hint. </em>Cassandra searched for a way out. She didn’t want to embarrass George by ribbing him in front of Leigh, but she didn’t want to prolong the uncomfortable moment any longer. Then she remembered why she’d come over in the first place, and tapped her fingers against the bar to get Leigh’s attention. “Hey, uh, one of your bandmates said you could sell me your music? I’d really love to have it.”</p><p>       Leigh smacked her forehead. “Oh my god, the merch! Thanks for reminding me!” She jumped from her chair. “We’re supposed to take turns at the merch table and I totally blanked. If you come with me, I could get you a record?”</p><p>       “Sounds good.” Cassandra followed Leigh across the floor, pausing only to mouth <em> I’m sorry </em>to George over her shoulder. The dejection in his eyes made her wish she’d handled the situation better, but she hadn’t been able to think of a more tactful exit.</p><p>       “Thanks for bailing me out,” Leigh muttered as soon as she and Cassandra were out of George’s earshot. “No offense to your friend, he seems nice and all, but…”</p><p>       Cassandra allowed herself a sympathetic smile. “Not your type?”</p><p>       Leigh sighed. “Yeah, he’s a little too, uh...”</p><p>      “Male?” Cassandra ventured. </p><p>       Leigh sucked in a breath through her teeth, shrugging tightly. She didn’t say another word until they had reached the two tables set up in the opposite corner from where Sara and Tamanna were sitting. At one table, Marc stood with his hands in his pockets and his eyes locked on Supermarine’s bassist, the two apparently engaged in a deep conversation. Neglected Crucial Taunt merch- T-shirts, stickers, drink coasters, all the various tchotkes that Wayne and Garth had designed- was spread across the tabletop, unsold and unappreciated.</p><p>      “Marc!” Cassandra called, causing him to whip his head around. “Do I have to come over there?”</p><p>       Marc only shrugged and went right back to talking with the bassist. Cassandra sighed. Despite his spacey tendencies, she knew he would eventually focus on his assigned task. He’d done a great job stepping up as a merch seller after the Portland incident. </p><p>       “We don’t have many copies of the new record with us,” Leigh explained as she moved behind the table, gesturing to the spread in front of her. “But we’ve got plenty of our first EP, and the record we did before we joined Studio X.”</p><p>       Cassandra took in the merch, admiring the eye-catching album art- a snarling shark that matched the T-shirts she’d seen fans wearing for their first EP; a tasteful, cheeky photo of the band peeking out from a hot tub for the first full-length; and a sketch of the band in action that looked like it had been traced from a photograph, bursting with wild, psychedelic colors, for the new album. Next to the records were a few stacks of folded T-shirts, and armbands with the band’s name on them. </p><p>       “Which one has that song you sang?” she asked. “The pop one, the one about, uh--”</p><p>      “‘Emily?’” Leigh blurted. “Uh, that’s on the new record.” She gestured toward the record in a self-conscious manner that seemed to indicate that she’d rather not discuss that song any further. <em> But why shouldn’t we? </em>It had been a highlight of the set, and Cassandra was forthcoming with her praise.</p><p>       She picked up the record to observe the back cover, reading over the track names- “Goldilocks,” “Emily,” “Actions Speak Louder,” “Counting On Your Kisses.”</p><p>        “I really liked that one. Your voice is great. I could really feel the emotion.”</p><p>       “Oh, thanks,” Leigh mumbled. “I wanted Sara to sing it, but, um, she thought it sounded better coming from me.”</p><p>       “She was right.” Cassandra reached into her pocket for her wallet. “How much?”</p><p>      Leigh sat down in the chair. “Ten for the album, five for the EP. Ten for a shirt, too.”</p><p>       Cassandra happily counted out the money. “Here’s fifteen.”</p><p>       “Hey, thanks.” Leigh folded the cash and slipped it into her pocket. “To be clear- you want the new album and the EP, right? Not a shirt?”</p><p>       “Sure, I’d love a shirt if it plays music.”</p><p>      “Ha!” Leigh laughed. “That's either the stupidest idea ever, or a super rad one.” She handed over the two records, and Cassandra accepted them. “I’d definitely like one of yours.”</p><p>       Cassandra glanced over to where Marc was still chatting with the bassist. “We don’t have any records yet, but I’m sure Marc would be happy to sell you some merch, once he gets his head out of the clouds.”</p><p>       Leigh followed Cassandra’s gaze. “Oh, god. If he’s with Haley, he might never come back.” Glancing back to Cassandra, she explained, “Last time we were on tour, Haley ran up a phone bill at every place we stayed. She’d talk for three hours a night.”</p><p>       Cassandra angled her eyebrows upward. “Wow. How long have you been touring?”</p><p>       “Uh, we’re starting our third national tour tomorrow.” Leigh adjusted herself in her seat and ran her fingers through her hair. “We’ve tried to do one for each album- I mean, the first time it was about a year after the EP came out ‘cause Haley and I were still in school, but after that we did a full tour for the first album, and now that we’ve got Tina Leblanc as our manager, we’re touring on her dime. That means better venues--” She grinned. “And better hotels, too.”</p><p>       <em> Wow, </em>Cassandra wanted to say again, even though it was pretty much exactly as she’d expected- this band was a big deal. “So you started the band in college?”</p><p>       “Nah, never went,” Leigh said. The matter-of-factness with which she brought it up reminded Cassandra of Wayne’s similar blase attitude towards higher education, although Wayne had always taken it a step further, as if it were a point of pride. “Technically we started in high school. Whenever our family got together, I’d invite Haley over and we’d jam with Sara, and eventually we decided to make it a real thing, so we put out an ad and ended up with Tamanna on guitar.” She snickered. “And now, five years later, look where we are…”</p><p>      Cassandra found herself struggling to understand the backstory. “You and Sara and Haley are… related?”</p><p>       “Oh, no, just me and Sara,” Leigh said. “She’s my cousin.”</p><p>       “I see.” Cassandra smiled. “I’m glad it has worked out so well for you.”</p><p>       Leigh ducked her head. “Yeah, it’s pretty sweet…” Her sudden humility seemed out of place, but Cassandra found it endearing. These musicians had clearly not let fame go to their heads. Their down to earth attitude was the kind that Cassandra hoped her band would continue to exhibit throughout their career.</p><p>       “So how’d your band come together?” Leigh asked. “Not to put you on the spot, I just seriously dug your sound.”</p><p>       “Thanks again.” Cassandra cast her mind backwards, back to her college days when she’d finally permitted herself to seriously pursue her dream of fronting a rock band, bouncing from group to group before finally landing on a bunch of weirdos for whom she was sure she’d lay down her life. “There’s this heavy metal bar back home where I started working during my last couple years of college. Sometimes at the end of the night, the bands who were playing would invite me up to sing some songs with them. One of those bands wanted to hire me, on the condition that I learn to play bass as well. So I learned it for them. Then they broke up. The next one I joined kicked me out. Then I met George and Anthony and asked if they’d consider backing me at live shows. Marc started coming to the shows later as a fan, and he could play better than all of us combined, so we added him for pizzazz.”</p><p>       “Sounds about right,” Leigh said. “He killed it up there.”</p><p>       “Yeah, he’s great.” Upon hearing the compliment, a warm feeling surged through Cassandra. Being told she was beautiful and that her vocals rocked was one thing. It was what everyone latched onto the first time they saw Crucial Taunt, to the point where she now expected to hear it. But she deeply appreciated the fact that Leigh had looked beyond the flashy front-woman. She was part of a unit, inseparable from the boys, and it usually took forever for others to acknowledge that. <em> Wayne never did. </em></p><p>“Who signed you?” Leigh asked.</p><p>       <em> Speaking of Wayne… </em>Cassandra tried to keep her tone as neutral as possible. “Sharp Records.” As long as Leigh didn’t ask how Crucial Taunt had gotten signed. As long as she didn’t ask if Sharp Records was supporting the band on their first tour, or…</p><p>       “Oh, damn.” The information seemed to have impressed Leigh. “Sounds like you’re gonna blow up.” She leaned forward to rest her elbows on the table, the corner of her mouth quirking downwards. “How come you’re staying at Greg’s, and not in the nicest hotel Frankie Sharp’s guys can get ya?”</p><p>       The words jolted through Cassandra like an icy blade. She clenched her fist. <em> She just had to ask… </em>It was fair to tell Leigh that she didn’t want to talk about it. After all, they’d only just met- she had no excuse to start dumping on her. But at the same time, the genuine interest in Leigh’s eyes made Cassandra want to confess more to her than she ordinarily would.</p><p>       “My idiot merch guys--” she began.</p><p>       “HEY!” The cry split the air, cutting through the flowing stream of conversation. At the entrance to the brewery, Anthony stood panting. </p><p>       “There’s a fire!” he barked. “In the parking lot!”</p><p>       A surge of adrenaline shot through Cassandra’s heart. She rushed to the entrance, not even bothering to acknowledge Anthony as she passed him. From the growing murmurs and the footsteps behind her, she could tell that several others had followed her out, either to help or to rubberneck. Every step of the way, Cassandra tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach. <em> Don’t let it be the Silver Bullet, don’t let it be the Silver Bullet… </em></p><p>When she surged around the corner to where the Silver Bullet was parked, she stopped dead, the tension draining from her body. But not because she was relieved. Right there in the parking lot, her band’s trusty vehicle was smoking from each window. The conflagration within was burning its last, but Cassandra could still see where flames had transformed its polyester interior to smoldering remains.</p><p>        She gulped, her legs starting to shake, though she wished they wouldn’t. She and the boys had stored so <em> much </em>in there. Her tape recorder, the mattress, Anthony’s sunglasses, Marc’s weed stash, George’s carefully-notated guitar tablature…</p><p>       The paperwork they’d signed to rent the van.</p><p>       One word slid from Cassandra’s mouth into the balmy California air. <em> “Fuck.” </em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Coming up: Crucial Taunt assesses the damage, and receives a valuable offer.</p><p>This fic will update once a week on Fridays. If you want to stay up to date, go subscribe to it!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Rawk and Rawl</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Crucial Taunt regroups for a band meeting, whereupon they receive an intriguing offer.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>       “All right.” Anthony walked into the kitchen to survey the motley assemblage of Crucial Taunt, Kiss the Dirt, and Supermarine members. “I got bad news, and more bad news. Which one do you want first?”</p><p>       As far as Cassandra was concerned, the worst news was that Anthony wouldn’t admit the fire was his fault. No one would. Granted, everyone else had decent alibis- Cassandra had been talking to Leigh, Marc had been talking to Haley, and George had been sitting at the bar ever since the show ended. None of them had taken their equipment outside, for which Cassandra was now immensely grateful. Anthony was the last person to have been in the van, and he swore he hadn’t touched his cigarettes the whole time. However, when George had asked if that meant it was arson, Anthony had rejected him with “I don’t think we need to go <em> that </em>far.” Although all signs pointed to Anthony, Cassandra couldn’t bring herself to call him out. Watching the Silver Bullet go down in flames had brought about a numbed stupor out of which she doubted she could be easily shaken.</p><p> “Just give it to us straight, Anthony,” Cassandra grumbled, resting her head on her folded arms. Technically this was a band meeting, since she and Marc and George were sitting around the kitchen table at Greg’s house waiting to hear what the rental company had told Anthony on the phone regarding the van’s damage. But Greg was there too, since the outcome might affect his hospitality towards Crucial Taunt. Meanwhile, Leigh and Haley hovered in the background for no reason that Cassandra could discern. <em> Shouldn’t they be partying with the rest of Kiss the Dirt? </em> The other musicians were already down in the rec room with a few friends, a cooler full of beer subpar to the brews that Blue Heron Brewery had to offer, some horror movies on VHS, and, oddly enough, a game of Twister. Cassandra, however, was too on-edge to consider enjoying herself. She couldn’t relax when the fate of Crucial Taunt's tour hung by a thread.</p><p>       “Okay.” Anthony sat down across the table from his bandmates. “The company’s charging us for damage to the van, and we’ll have to cover it ourselves.”</p><p>       “Why wouldn’t we?” George said. “We’ve done everything else ourselves.” </p><p>       <em> Except sell merch, </em> Cassandra longed to point out. Of course, hitting the road without managerial support had been her merch sellers’ idea in the first place. She shot Anthony a poisonous glare. “It <em> was </em>you, wasn’t it?”</p><p>      “Hey.” Anthony held up his hands. “Let’s not point fingers. If the company says we’re responsible, then we’re responsible.”</p><p>       All Cassandra could do was bury her face in her hands. Just when things were starting to look up- now that Supermarine’s music had breathed life back into her and the downward spiral she’d been in since the Portland incident had begun to reverse itself- her band had hit a brand-new slump. And it was all Wayne Campbell’s fault. <em> His fault for talking me into touring old-school… and my fault for listening in the first place. </em></p><p>A hand on Cassandra’s back caused her to raise her head. Peering over her shoulder, she spied Leigh, her thumb rubbing reflexively across Cassandra’s shoulder blade. The instant their eyes met, Leigh let go of her and stepped back, a faint splash of pink appearing on her cheeks.</p><p>       “So… does this mean we’re going home?” George asked, voicing everyone’s thoughts.</p><p>       “What choice do we have?” Cassandra groaned. “We don’t have the money to rent another van.”</p><p>       “We barely have enough to cover the damage as it is,” Anthony pointed out. “Everything we’ve earned on tour, down the drain. What a freakin’ waste.”</p><p>       “Man,” Marc muttered, his eyes fixed to the table. “Bummer.”</p><p>       There was a silence, while Cassandra stewed in her juices. She knew she shouldn’t say anything more, lest she come across as weak and self-pitying. But she couldn’t keep it inside any longer.</p><p>      “Guys… I’m so sorry.”</p><p>       Upon receiving only blank stares,  Cassandra sighed. <em> You’re really gonna make me say it. </em>“This is my fault. We should’ve stayed in Aurora and finished our first record before going out on tour. I was the one who pushed us to do this. It was my bad decision, and… I’m sorry.”</p><p>       “God, Cassandra!” Anthony burst out, though there was no real anger in his voice. “You don’t need to take this whole thing on your shoulders, okay? Nobody forced us to go on tour. Stop being such a martyr.”</p><p>      Cassandra leveled her gaze at Anthony. “I was the first to bring it up.”</p><p>       “Well, actually Wayne was the first, if you think about it,” George offered quietly.</p><p>      “Yeah, and before you say anything, it’s not Wayne’s fault that we’re stuck out here either,” Anthony said. He settled down, taking on a lovingly exasperated tone. “This band’s been about collaboration from day one. Cassandra says we should go on tour, we talk about it, turns out we all want to go on tour. Marc here says we need to feature him more, we talk about it, give him longer solos. George…” Anthony smirked. “Okay, so George doesn’t contribute much.”</p><p>       “Dickhead,” George muttered, though his lips twitched upwards.</p><p>       “Anyway, point being,” Anthony began, “we’re in it just as much as you are, Cass. So c’mon. Try not to take it so hard.”</p><p>       “Yeah,” Marc said. “It’s cool, man. We’re cool.” He gently laid his hand against Cassandra’s upper arm. At first Cassandra was about to shrug off his touch, but she couldn’t deny how good it felt. She rested her hand on top of his. Beside her, George threw an arm around her shoulders, and she snuggled up against him the way she’d seen Sara snuggle against Tamanna at the brewery. A deep sense of relief settled into her bones. “Thanks.” She knew her bandmates didn’t want to make a big deal out of what had happened in Portland. But from their simple gestures, Cassandra realized they understood that she was going through a rough time, and wanted to help her out. Her heart swelled with appreciation. <em> I couldn’t’ve picked a better bunch of guys to be stranded on the road with. </em></p><p>“All right,” Anthony said, mellowing out, as his three bandmates broke away from each other. “Do you want to put it to a vote?”</p><p>Cassandra nodded. “It’s only fair.” She cleared her throat. “All in favor of cancelling our tour dates and going back home, raise your hand.”</p><p>Marc raised his hand. George did as well. Cassandra didn’t need to look at Anthony. She was about to add her hand to the mix when a voice piped up from behind her.</p><p> “Hey, what if… what if you joined our tour?” </p><p>Cassandra turned in her seat, along with her bandmates, to see that Leigh had stepped forward. Her arms awkwardly contorted in mid-air, as if she had no idea what to do with them. She sucked in a deep breath, releasing tension from her shoulders. “We’re set to go on tour tomorrow… We could hire you as an opener. I’m sure our audiences would dig you.”</p><p>      “Leigh!” Haley gasped, wide-eyed.</p><p>       “Uh… would your manager be okay with that?” George asked. </p><p>       “I’ll call her.” As the idea began to take shape, Leigh seemed to loosen up, her hands falling to her sides and her eyes sparking. “I mean, we needed an opener anyway…”</p><p>       Haley prodded Leigh’s back. “What about the other bands--”</p><p>       “We wouldn’t want to impose,” Cassandra said, trying to provide a voice of reason. However, her heart had already thrown reason out the window. Her mind raced at a mile a minute, scheming up ways that this offer could work in her band’s favor. They’d receive a wider audience and better lodgings, they wouldn’t need to pay for everything out of pocket, she’d get to spend more time enjoying Supermarine’s music…</p><p>        <em> Stop that, </em>Cassandra scolded herself. She was getting carried away. There was no guarantee that touring with Supermarine would turn out well. All the same, she struggled to find any downsides.</p><p>       “It’s okay,” Leigh said reassuringly. “I’ll go call our manager right now. We can work this out.”</p><p>        “Uh, mind if we discuss it first?” Anthony said, his gaze sweeping across his bandmates. “Alone?”</p><p>       “Come on, Leigh.” Haley grabbed Leigh’s arm and tugged her towards the other room. “We should run this by Sara and Tamanna, too.” </p><p>       Leigh nodded, but her eyes were on Crucial Taunt even as she left the room. Cassandra tried not to meet her lingering gaze. She crossed her fingers under the table, praying that Supermarine’s manager would give them the go-ahead, and that her bandmates would be on board.</p><p>       “Anybody need anything?” Greg asked once Leigh and Haley were gone. “Brownie?”</p><p>      “Brownie?” George repeated.</p><p>      “Yeah, we baked ‘em earlier today.” Greg pulled a baking sheet off the counter and began to pry at its tinfoil covering. “We were saving them for after the show… could cheer you up?”</p><p>       “Hell <em> yeah,” </em>Marc declared, perking up and turning around in his seat. </p><p>      Casandra cleared her throat. “Or we could make a decision about the tour first…”</p><p>       “Oh, sure,” Greg said, swiping the brownies away from Marc's crestfallen eyes.  “We’ll be down in the rec room when you’re done.” He departed, leaving all four members of Crucial Taunt alone with each other’s company.</p><p>        As Cassandra leaned across the table, her bandmates instinctively did the same. “All right. Show of hands, who wants to go on tour with Supermarine?”</p><p>       Three uncertain faces watched as Cassandra’s hand rose into the air. She sighed. “Okay, not all at once.”</p><p>        “I dunno…” Anthony squeezed his hands together in his lap. “It’s kind of them to offer… it’s just… we don’t know them too well…”</p><p>        “I mean, they seem cool,” George argued. “But I don’t think we should mooch off them.”</p><p>       All eyes immediately went to Marc for the deciding factor. Marc licked his lips, unfazed. “That bassist is super hot.”</p><p>       “And?” Cassandra prompted.</p><p>       “She’s hot,” Marc said. “And I’m not.”</p><p>       “Oh my god,” George groaned. “Really? That’s what it is, you’re afraid of rejection?” </p><p>       “Hey, that’s just as dumb as being afraid of riding their coattails,” Anthony fired back. “If we do it, we’ll earn our keep. What say you, Cassandra?”</p><p>        Try as she might to fight it, a mischievous smile spread across Cassandra’s face. “I say it sounds like you guys really want to go on tour.”</p><p>       The faces of Cassandra’s bandmates gradually softened, her words striking home. Even Anthony ended up nodding. “I <em> do </em> really want to. I just wanna know that we can trust them first.”</p><p>       <em> Typical Anthony. </em> Cassandra had always figured that he wasn't cut out for the entertainment business. He was too cautious, too quick to put his foot down-- <em> Can’t make it to practice. If I don’t pick up a shift my boss’ll kill me. I don’t know about that club, I heard from my friend’s sister’s boyfriend that the guy who runs it is a total sleaze. Yeah, a recording contract sounds great- what’s the catch? </em>However, his paranoia made him an asset to Crucial Taunt. Having been burned before, it was always better to keep someone around whose bullshit meter was extremely sensitive.</p><p>       “I’ll talk to them.” Cassandra spread her hands in the air. “After they talk with their manager. Who knows, she might not let us come on tour. But if she does, I will let you know if they’re trustworthy. Do you trust <em> me?” </em></p><p>At first she feared that Anthony would reject her, since she didn’t have the best track record when it came to business decisions. But Anthony acquiesced with a nod, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced. “Always, Cassandra.”</p><p>       “All right.” Cassandra surveyed the room. “Now who’s ready to get back on the road?”</p><p>        Marc stretched his hand out flat on the table, and George laid his hand on top. Cassandra and Anthony followed, adding their hands to the pile. As they stared at each other, giddy grins slipped across their faces. </p><p>       “On the count of three,” Cassandra murmured. “One, two--”</p><p>       “RAWK AND RAWWWLLLLL!” they cheered in their worst fake British accents, their hands flying into the air. Just like that, it felt as if a gear had clicked into place. Cassandra knew that from now on, there would be no more lingering weirdness over what had happened in Portland. She made a personal note to try not to be so hard on the boys. <em> Except, of course, when they deserve it. </em></p><p>Just as they were about to split and leave the kitchen, Leigh appeared in the doorway, the eagerness in her eyes belying her casual stance. “Hey, so I just spoke with the band and our tour manager.”</p><p>        Cassandra angled her body towards Leigh. “What’d they say?” Her bandmates waited with bated breath.</p><p>       “Here’s the thing.” Leigh slid one hand down the doorframe, rubbing against it as if she was either nervous or couldn’t contain her excitement. “Sara and Tamanna are cool with having you on tour, but as far as Tina goes… There’s gonna be some limitations.” She paused, waiting for an interjection, but for a moment, none came. Finally Anthony asked, “What kind of limitations?”</p><p>        “We already have our rooms booked, so your band will have to pay out of pocket for accommodation,” Leigh explained. “Unless we all room together. And because we’ve already got some local bands lined up to play with us, we’ll have to split the bill. The first half of the set will be you, then the second half will be us. We’ll split whatever we make 50/50.”</p><p>      Before anyone else could get a word in, Cassandra turned to Anthony. “How much have we made so far?” Thankfully, the money had been at Greg’s house at the time that the Silver Bullet caught fire.</p><p>       Anthony shrugged, his eyes rolling contemplatively towards the ceiling. “Not counting what we’ve spent on gas and food… probably enough to last a couple days.”</p><p>       Cassandra’s brow furrowed. <em> Not enough to pay for separate rooms. </em>She made some quick mental calculations. “How many hotel rooms do you usually book, Leigh?”</p><p>       “Just one for the band,” Leigh responded. “And one for the bus driver to share with our manager.”</p><p>       Marc whistled, impressed. “You have a tour bus?” The remark was swiftly followed with an <em> “ow-” </em>Cassandra assumed George must have poked him.</p><p>       “Pretty sure that’s not the important part, man.”</p><p>       “But it <em> is,” </em>Marc breathed. “We can sleep on the bus.”</p><p>       The realization dawned sharply upon the group. Anthony and George shuffled awkwardly, not wanting to admit that the solution hadn’t occurred to them. Cassandra, however, had no pride to save. She turned to her bandmates. “Is everyone comfortable with sleeping on the tour bus?”</p><p>       Marc and George nodded, while Anthony sighed. “If it’s the best we can do…”</p><p>        “It is if you’re low on cash,” Leigh stated firmly. There was a note of finality in her voice, as if the matter was closed and done. Her audacity impressed Cassandra. Somehow she hadn’t pegged Leigh as the kind of person who would call the shots in her own band, much less in someone else’s.</p><p>       “So… payment,” she said. “Is everyone okay with taking a cut from Supermarine?”</p><p>       Again Marc and George nodded, and this time Anthony didn’t hesitate to join them. The smile returned to Cassandra’s face as she met Leigh’s dark eyes. “Looks like we’re going on tour.”</p><p>       <em> “Excellent!” </em>Leigh held out her hand for a high five. The gesture was so disarming- so jarringly similar to Wayne- that Cassandra almost didn’t return it. Once she did, though, her bandmates followed in quick succession, slapping Leigh’s hand and then slapping each other’s. Cassandra felt as though she’d swallowed a beam of sunlight. With one split decision, what had first seemed like the end of the world had now become a minor setback. Had Supermarine been sent from the heavens?</p><p>       “I don’t know about you,” Anthony announced, “but I’m ready to party.”</p><p>       “PARTAAAAAY!” Marc and George cheered, rushing out of the kitchen. Anthony followed them at a more leisurely pace, leaving Leigh and Cassandra alone.</p><p>       “C’mon.” Leigh stepped out of the doorway, jerking her head in the direction that the boys had fled. “I think the party’s that way.”</p><p>       Cassandra followed Leigh out, but her mind was on other matters. She’d told Anthony that she’d do her best to figure out how trustworthy Leigh and Supermarine were. However, the only way she could think of to put her sleuthing abilities to the test was with a single question.</p><p>       “Hey, uh… why’d you decide to go all in on this band, anyway?”</p><p>       “Man.” Leigh stopped in her tracks, chuckling. “Haven’t you heard yourself?”</p><p>       Cassandra shook her head. The flattery was too obvious for her to warm to. “There’s gotta be other bands out there that sound just as good as we do. Why Crucial Taunt and not, say, Kiss the Dirt?”</p><p>        Leigh shrugged and began walking again. Cassandra noticed that her legs were significantly longer than Leigh’s- she had to strive not to overtake her.</p><p>       “Well, you’ve heard Kiss the Dirt, right?” Leigh said. “Maybe not <em> here, </em>in LA, but over in… where’d you say you were from?”</p><p>       For half a second Cassandra was prepared to blurt <em> Hong Kong, </em>before realizing what Leigh meant. “Illinois.”</p><p>       “Okay, so… you’ve definitely heard Kiss the Dirt, every time you walk past someone’s garage. Every time you’ve been to a battle of the bands, or some shitty talent show. I’ve heard Kiss the Dirt about a thousand times in my life, and I’ve only been to three of their shows. But I’ve never heard <em> anything </em>like Crucial Taunt before.”</p><p>       <em> Again with the flattery. </em> Cassandra decided she didn’t mind it, though. As long as Leigh was reacting to the aural and not the visual aspect. The words of the song Leigh had written echoed through her mind’s ear- <em> tell me you’re still mine, sweet Emily- </em> accompanied by a vision of Sara and Tamanna in each other’s arms. Cassandra could respect Leigh’s fervor if it was the music that had gripped her. But the idea of being just another pretty idol to fawn over didn’t exactly charm her. It was the same aspect that had turned Wayne onto Crucial Taunt, <em> and look what that led to? </em>But Leigh didn’t seem like that type of person, not really. Not that Cassandra knew her well enough to tell.</p><p>Upon entering the rec room, Cassandra was greeted by the sight of several young men contorted in various positions across an insufficiently-sized Twister mat. All struggled to maintain their spots. Cassandra fought back her laughter as Greg gave the arrow an enthusiastic spin. “RIGHT HAND BLUE!!” Groaning and jostling against each other, the mass of men stretched out their wobbling limbs. </p><p>        To Cassandra’s utter lack of surprise, George and Marc had already joined the group. George sat at the edge of the couch with a beer in his hand while Marc hovered over Greg’s shoulder, watching the spinner arrow with the glassy-eyed stare of someone who’d just sampled one of Greg’s special brownies. Haley was sandwiched on the floor between two guys, looking remarkably comfortable. Beside the easy chair was a cooler, from which Leigh grabbed a couple wine coolers. She held one up to Cassandra, who shook her head. Ironically, given her proximity to the party scene, she wasn’t the biggest drinker. This tendency had earned her the nickname One-And-Done back in college, but she'd never taken it as an insult.  </p><p>       Leigh plopped down on the floor at the foot of the couch, her head inches away from George’s knees. Cassandra followed her, bunching up her legs and hugging them to her chest. She tried to watch the action playing out before her, as Greg called out each position and the players wrestled with each other, but her gaze kept straying back to Leigh. Leigh appeared only vaguely entertained, as if she knew she had better things to do but felt she might as well stick around and see what happened here instead. As she raised her wine cooler to her lips, Cassandra noticed that her fingernails were painted black, though the color was chipping at the tips. She felt like saying something to her, but wasn’t sure where to start.</p><p>      “LEFT HAND YELLOW!” Greg shouted, and a collective round of swearing rose up from the mat. One particularly beefy dude- a member of Kiss the Dirt, though Cassandra hadn’t gotten his name- reached out, only to slip and crash into the player beside him. <em> “Shiiit!” </em>he cried as the two hurtled to the floor, collapsing in a tangle of limbs.</p><p>       “Yes!” exclaimed the last player standing, raising an arm to pump his fist in the air. “So long, su- <em> ahhh…” </em>The fist-pumping had knocked him off-balance, and so with a disappointed grunt, he fell flat on the floor as the other guys were picking themselves up.</p><p>       “How the mighty have fallen!” Greg cried, to the sound of whooping and mock applause. “Haley, will you do the honors?”</p><p>       “Sure!” Haley jumped up from where she was squeezed between two men and grabbed a bottle of vodka from a nearby table. She filled three shot glasses, before handing one to each of the unlucky players.</p><p>       Cassandra turned to Leigh, shaking her head fondly. “Boys will be boys, huh?”</p><p>       Leigh wasn’t listening, because she was too busy guffawing. Her face crinkled up, her hands flying to her stomach. Yet again, Cassandra was reminded of Wayne. Though he coaxed such reactions from her with ease, she’d always had trouble getting him to laugh that hard. Any time that she did was a rare moment to be savored. But Leigh didn’t laugh with the same sense of abandon that Cassandra had always found so irresistible. She covered her face, as if ashamed of her uproarious reaction. It almost made Cassandra want to pull her hands away from her face and insist that there was no reason to blush. Yet her hands remained folded in her lap.</p><p>       “Jesus,” Leigh said, gulping air. </p><p>        “You want in on this?” Haley asked as she came around, thrusting an extra shot glass in Leigh’s face. Her hazy smile was much more relaxed than Leigh’s laughter. “C’mon… I know you do.”</p><p>       “Nah, man.” Now Leigh was smiling back, her chipped tooth gleaming, and Cassandra found herself drawn in. “I’m happy just to watch.” She angled her head towards Cassandra, as if the two were sharing a private joke. In that moment, Cassandra felt that everything was going to be fine. She didn’t need verbal confirmation that Leigh and her band were to be trusted. One look told her everything she needed to know. She reached out for Haley’s vodka shot. </p><p>       “Don’t mind if I do.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next chapter: the bands go on tour.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Like the Sweet Song of a Choir</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>5/23/93: San Francisco. Crucial Taunt and Supermarine play their first show together.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>              Supermarine’s tour bus rolled out of Los Angeles at 7:30 the next morning, and Crucial Taunt were onboard with them. Gazing out the window at the brilliant sky, Cassandra had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t still dreaming. Everything that had happened yesterday- hearing Supermarine perform, meeting the band, the Silver Bullet burning down, Leigh’s live-saving suggestion, the party- was tinged with a sense of unreality, as if Cassandra were peering down at a reenactment of the events from the wrong end of a telescope. Lately life had been a roller coaster, moving down, up, down, up, and now Cassandra only hoped she was gliding towards an exit sign. </p><p>       When Supermarine had arrived at Greg’s that morning to pick up Crucial Taunt, Tamanna had warned Cassandra that the A/C would be on full blast. As a result, Cassandra had scrounged through her luggage until she found her father’s old raincoat that he’d bought secondhand. Now snuggled up inside it, she watched the cars whipping by on the freeway until her vision blurred and her head fell against the windshield. In seconds, she drifted off. </p><p>        Several hours later, the first thing Cassandra saw upon awakening was the arch of Leigh’s elbow as she reached up to scratch her head. She was seated opposite from Cassandra, a couple seats down. Cassandra yawned and pulled herself upright, assessing the bus’s interior. She and Leigh were the only ones sitting in the back, right in front of the black curtain that blocked off the bunks. Up at the very front was Supermarine’s tour manager, Tina, and a few rows behind her were Tamanna and Sara. Directly behind them was Haley, and across from her, Marc was seated. The two were facing each other, engaged in what Cassandra assumed was a continuation of their conversation from the night before. Anthony sat up front across from Tina, and George sat all by himself somewhere in the middle. Though Cassandra couldn’t partake in any of her friends’ chatter unless she switched seats, she was comfortable with the spot she’d chosen. In her experience, the people who sat at the back of the bus always had better stories.</p><p>        Warm sunlight bathed the bus, illuminating every face within. The sight was stunning, a postcard-perfect California morning. Instinctively Cassandra reached for her tape recorder- only to freeze upon recalling yesterday’s events. The song that she’d spent a whole night trying to craft had vanished in an inferno. <em> “Dammit.” </em></p><p>From across the aisle, Leigh turned, meeting Cassandra’s eyes. “What?”</p><p>       “Nothing,” Cassandra sighed. “Just thinking about what I lost in that fire. My tape recorder was in the van… I had just started recording a new song.”</p><p>       “Shit, I’m sorry.” Leigh did appear genuinely sorry, which Cassandra found reassuring. At least she knew she wasn’t just being dramatic. “I know it’s not really the same, but if it makes you feel better, we had to rewrite three songs for our new album after Sara’s notebook got stolen.”</p><p>       “Stolen?” Cassandra said. “By who?”</p><p>       Leigh frowned cluelessly. “We don’t know. She was writing at a bar and left it there, and it never showed up in the lost and found.”</p><p>       “Weird.” Cassandra adjusted herself in her seat, sliding one leg over the other and leaning towards Leigh. She noticed that Leigh had unconsciously done the same. “At least you made the best of a bad situation.”</p><p>       “I guess.” Leigh pushed her hands through her hair, mussing it up. “I mean, that’s the only reason why I got my first song on the record.”</p><p>       “Does Sara usually do the writing?” Cassandra asked.</p><p>       “Yeah, lyrics-wise. We all write the music together.” Leigh pulled her knees up to her chest. “‘Emily’ was the exception.”</p><p>       Cassandra waited for more, but Leigh only stared down at her fingers, picking at her chipped nail polish. The mention of “Emily” seemed to have silenced her. From the way Leigh had performed the song the previous night, it seemed like it might come with a potentially juicy backstory. But Cassandra wasn’t a nosy person, and if Leigh didn’t want to talk about it, she wouldn’t bother prying.</p><p>       “That was the first song you wrote?” she said. “It’s so good!” <em> Much better than the first lyrics I wrote in English. </em></p><p> Leigh made a <em> pffft </em>noise, blowing air through her lips. “It’s okay. It wouldn’t have even gotten on the album if Sara didn’t like it so much.”</p><p>       Cassandra shook her head. “You’re selling yourself short. Besides, the more you write, the better you’ll get.”</p><p>       “That’s the thing,” Leigh said. “I don’t know if I’m cut out for writing.”</p><p>       “Sure you are!” Cassandra insisted. “If you ever want help, I’d be happy to provide it.”</p><p>       The offer slipped out unthinkingly, but fortunately it wasn’t something Cassandra wanted to take back. Across the aisle, Leigh loosened up, her arms falling from her knees to her sides. “That’d be great.” She smiled, and Cassandra felt her heart rise in her chest, as if it had grown wings. Even though Leigh wasn’t exactly <em> gorgeous- but then again, who is?- </em> that smile of hers continued to dazzle Cassandra. Like a disease, it was infectious, practically forcing her to return it. </p><p>       As Cassandra stared at Leigh, a notion arose. Both George and Anthony had vetoed her song, which meant they probably weren’t going to develop it… but no one had said that Cassandra couldn’t finish it without assistance from Crucial Taunt. The idea of writing a song without her bandmates’ input struck her as completely alien and unnatural, and yet, what choice did she have? Plus, if it helped Leigh cut her songwriting teeth…  </p><p>       “Actually, that song I was talking about that I lost… I might need help finishing it.”</p><p>       “Yeah?” A hint of interest pierced Leigh’s cool, collected façade.  “Do you remember any of it?”</p><p>       Cassandra nodded and began to sing, quietly enough so that the rest of the people on the bus couldn’t hear her, but loudly enough to be heard over the bus’ rattling. <em> “He’s a lost cause, baby, better knock him flat. Move along, move along, he’ll be just fine. He’s a lost cause, baby, and you’re better than that. Give him up, give him up, don’t waste your time. He’s a lost cause, baby, and you’re better than that…” </em></p><p>She trailed off, not only because that was all she’d written, but because her lyrics seemed to have driven Leigh into an ecstatic trance. She sat grinning from ear to ear, as if she’d never heard anything so satisfying.</p><p>       “That’s great,” she said. “What do you need help with?”</p><p>       “Well…” Though Cassandra tried not to get her hopes up, Leigh’s genuine interest thrilled her. “I’ve got a chorus but no verse.”</p><p>       “Great,” Leigh said. “I suck at verses.”</p><p>       “How is that great?”</p><p>       Leigh laughed. “‘Cause now I get to <em> learn.” </em></p><p>*</p><p>       Hours later, Cassandra sat staring a complete song in the face. Once she and Leigh had started working, it had become impossible to focus on anything else. As it turned out, Leigh was much more adept with lyrics than she gave herself credit for. Though she hesitated before proposing each line, her suggestions fit fluidly into the framework of the song- which was now entitled "Lost Cause." Cassandra couldn’t believe how quickly the words flowed from their heads onto the pages of Leigh’s notebook. It felt like no time at all had passed before Cassandra was left basking in the afterglow.</p><p>       “Thanks for your input, Leigh! This song is going to <em> kick ass.” </em></p><p>“Glad I could help,” Leigh mumbled, struggling to conceal her pride. “I can’t wait to hear what it sounds like with the rest of the band.”</p><p>       “I just hope they’ll go for it.” Cassandra gently tugged at the notebook’s pages, ripping out the sheet of lyrics. Though she hadn’t given it much thought, she was now fully concerned with the reaction of her bandmates. George hadn’t seemed onboard with a song inspired by Cassandra’s breakup, and Anthony had admitted he was tired of seeing Cassandra moping over it. Surely the topic alone would put them off. Furthermore, Cassandra had never collaborated with anyone outside of her band. Would the boys see this as a betrayal? </p><p>       <em> Who cares, </em> Cassandra’s mind assuaged her. <em> It rocks. They’re sure to love it. </em>But what if they didn’t? Did she have the confidence to perform the song separately from the band?</p><p>       “Why wouldn’t they?” Leigh said, mimicking Cassandra’s thoughts. “I think it’s great.”</p><p>       Cassandra tapped her finger against her forehead as she peered down at the written lyrics, trying to figure out how to explain the dynamic of Crucial Taunt to Leigh. “Our band is… democratic. Anything that doesn’t speak for all of us gets thrown out.”</p><p>        “So?” Leigh said. “This song’s relatable. Don’t tell me your bandmates have never dumped anyone before.”</p><p>       Cassandra chuckled, glancing up. “They have. Just not this guy.”</p><p>        Leigh shook her head dismissively as she rearranged herself in her seat. “Hey, I don’t know anything about this guy and I had no problem writing about him. Maybe your bandmates just need some convincing.”</p><p>       <em> Hmm. </em>Cassandra folded up the torn-out page, her mind racing. Vividly she recalled what Leigh had said earlier about the first song she’d written, “Emily.” The song was clearly a solo effort, written about something that was presumably personal to Leigh, without any relation to the band’s regular lyricist. And yet Sara- and, it was to be assumed, Tamanna and Haley- had wanted it on the album. Perhaps Crucial Taunt’s approach to songwriting was hindering them rather than helping them. Cassandra wondered if she could muster up the courage to talk about it with her bandmates, without them thinking she merely wanted to push her own song. </p><p>       “With these lyrics, I doubt I’ll have any trouble,” she said, trying to match the carefree tone of Leigh’s voice. “Thank you so much.” </p><p>       “Aw, you’re welcome.” Leigh shoved a loose strand of hair behind her ears. “It’s gonna rock with the full band. Put some guitars on it, get that Debbie Harry vibe going.”</p><p>       “I don’t know.” Cassandra slid the page she’d folded into her back pocket. “I was thinking more of Joan Jett?”</p><p>      “Even better!” Leigh slammed her fist against the thankfully-unoccupied seat in front of her. “When I was a kid… I wanted to marry The Runaways. Like, every single one of them.”</p><p>        “I love The Runaways!” Cassandra exclaimed. It seemed almost too obvious that a musician like Leigh should have been inspired by them, but it wasn’t so much that their sound was similar- they just happened to be the hardest-rocking group of women that Cassandra knew. “I saw Lita Ford in concert my first year of college.”</p><p>       “God, I’d kill to see any of them,” Leigh sighed. “The closest I’ve come was when I covered ‘Cherry Bomb.’”</p><p>       “With Supermarine?” Cassandra asked.</p><p>       “No, just with Haley.” A self-deprecating smile graced Leigh’s face. “We were fifteen and we played for my family in the backyard. Try to guess how <em> that </em>turned out.”</p><p>       Cassandra’s brow furrowed. “The Runaways weren’t much older than that when they recorded that song.”</p><p>      “Yeah, but my folks never really got the whole hard rock thing. <em> Rock </em> was fine, but hard rock, it was like--” Leigh began to sing. <em> “Hello, Daddy, hello, Mom! I’m a ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-CHILDHOOD DISAPPOINTMENT!” </em></p><p>The laughter that flooded from Cassandra nearly bowled her over. “Don’t say that! I’m sure your parents love you.”</p><p>      Leigh cringed. “Yeah, well… the feeling’s, uh, not always mutual.” </p><p>      “Oh.” Sensing it was wise not to ask Leigh to elaborate, Cassandra searched for a new topic. Finally, she chose to crack a joke instead. “Then I guess you should’ve tried harder to piss them off.”</p><p>        “We almost did.” Leigh cracked a smile. “I wanted to do it at my bat mitzvah.” </p><p>       Again Cassandra broke into giggles. Her own happiness was both astonishing, and familiar. After spending all her time with Wayne, Garth, and her bandmates for weeks on end, it was refreshing to talk not only to a woman, but a woman who shared her interests and whom she found genuinely compelling as well. She hadn’t realized how badly she’d needed a change of faces. It occurred to her then that she hadn’t thought about Wayne all day, except as an inspiration for her song. </p><p>       “Leigh… I’d be happy to write more songs with you, if you ever want to.”</p><p>       The laughter faded, but Leigh still sounded overjoyed when she replied. “Thank you, Cassandra.”</p><p>*</p><p>       Supermarine’s tour bus rolled up to the Bottom of the Hill in San Francisco at 5:00 on the dot. The exterior struck Cassandra as strangely classy for the neighborhood, but her mood changed the instant she and the boys filed inside. There was no seating around the small stage, except for the chairs at the bar. The walls and tiles were patterned in garish colors, and each light fixture was outfitted with a different wild-looking lampshade. It reminded Cassandra more of a pizza parlor than a music venue.</p><p>      Anthony nudged Cassandra’s shoulder. “Didn’t you say touring with Supermarine would get us bigger venues?”</p><p>       “I kind of like it,” Cassandra said. Really, she couldn’t complain. As far as venues went, this was the closest to home she’d felt on the whole tour.</p><p>       It was jarring to begin physical labor after spending an idle day on the bus. From the bus’s belly spilled forth all kinds of equipment- amps and speakers, mics and XLR cables, and of course, drums and basses and guitars. When Cassandra picked up her bass case, she felt as if she had reunited with an old friend. As she slung the strap around her shoulder, she noticed that George had approached Leigh. He gestured to the amp in her hand. “Here, I’ll carry that for you.” </p><p>       <em> With what hands?, </em>Cassandra wondered, given that George was already carrying a speaker. Leigh seemed equally unmoved. She surged forward, but George blocked her path, wearing an eager, nervous grin. “Hey, come on, I just want to--”</p><p>       Leigh laughed, swinging the amp back and forth. “I don’t need any help, but thanks.” With that, she sidestepped around George, leaving him dumbfounded. His eyes sought Cassandra’s as she came forward.</p><p>        “I’m just trying to be nice...”</p><p>       “Maybe you’re being <em> too </em>nice,” Cassandra suggested. “I carry my own amp, and you’ve never thought about helping me.”</p><p>       George followed Cassandra through the venue’s doors. “Are you trying to tell me something?”</p><p>      “Yeah.” Cassandra shot him a teasing grin. “You should offer to help me more often. Otherwise, don’t ever get between a woman and her audio equipment.” With that, she snatched the speaker from George’s hands and turned tail, her spirits higher than they’d been in weeks.       </p><p>*</p><p>       “Hey, would you like me to do your hair?”</p><p>      Swallowing the last bite of her burger, Cassandra swiveled around in her seat to find Tamanna standing before her. She was the first member of Supermarine that Cassandra had seen since they’d flitted off to get ready in whatever passed for dressing rooms at the Bottom of the Hill. <em>Probably used the restrooms. </em>Subsequently, Crucial Taunt had crowded around the bar to put in their complimentary orders. The boys were already dressed for success in their tank tops and tees, ripped jeans, and long, messy hair. Cassandra was the only one who’d changed clothes, trading her T-shirt and yesterday’s skinny jeans for a white crop top and a pair of black-and-white pinstripe dress pants. She’d wedged white triangular earrings into her ears, touched up her blush and her lip gloss, and run a brush through her hair, satisfied with what she considered the bare minimum. Tamanna’s suggestion, however, left her feeling otherwise.</p><p>      “Could you braid it?” she asked, pulling her hair forward so that it fell over her shoulders. Tamanna nodded and twirled her hand in a circle. “Turn around.” Once Cassandra had obeyed, she gathered fistfuls of her silky hair and went to work.</p><p>      “It feels so good to work on someone else’s hair,” Tamanna commented as her fingers twisted into Cassandra’s scalp. Cassandra had to remind herself to keep her head still and stare straight ahead, even as she responded to Tamanna. “Are you a hairdresser?”</p><p>       “No, I’m an amateur,” Tamanna laughed. “Sara and I both picked it up when we first went on tour. We don’t have a lot of time to stop and get a haircut, and when your bandmates like to keep their hair short, someone’s got to do it for them.” She paused to unwind an elastic band from around her wrist. “I just thought you might want the audience to see your lovely face.”</p><p>       Cassandra shrugged. “As long as that’s not all they’re seeing.”</p><p>      “Hey, no shame in that.” Tamanna let go of Cassandra’s hair and stepped away. “If you got it and you wanna flaunt it, go for it.”</p><p>      <em> Ugh… </em> Cassandra reached up to rub her eyes. <em> If she’d said that a month ago, maybe I’d agree. </em>She felt the back of her head, stroking her finger across the loose plait. “You did great! Thanks!” </p><p>      “No problem.” Tamanna came up beside Cassandra, smiling as she surveyed her handiwork. She was dressed in the same faded jeans and black tee that she and the rest of the band had worn the night before. Cassandra wondered if they had dozens of the same articles of clothing, one for each night of the tour. The idea of matching outfits appealed to her. It served to accentuate the point that no band member should be singled out over the others. </p><p>       “You never do <em> my </em>hair, Cass,” Anthony pouted in the seat on Cassandra’s other side.</p><p>       “C’mon, Anthony.” Cassandra grinned. “You’re a big boy. I think you can manage.”</p><p>      Shortly after Crucial Taunt wrapped up their business at the bar, they were ushered backstage to await the incoming audience. Before they left, Cassandra put in a request at the bar for four shots. She sat on a dusty couch beside George while Anthony leaned against the wall and Marc sat in the corner noodling on his guitar, straining to hear the activity of those entering the main room. Supermarine were nowhere to be found- Cassandra guessed they had their own pre-show ritual to complete.</p><p>       Footsteps announced a newcomer’s presence. At first glance, Cassandra was disappointed that it wasn’t anyone from Supermarine, but her mood rapidly changed when she caught a glimpse of the tray of shot glasses in the bartender's hand. The instant he set it down, she sprang up, surveying each of the glasses to ensure that they’d gotten the right order. Vodka for George and Marc, tequila for Anthony… and gin for herself. </p><p>       George got up from the couch and came to join Cassandra. “Are we toasting tonight?”</p><p>      “Nah,” Anthony said as he and Marc wandered over. “Let’s just thank God we’re still on the road.”</p><p>       “More like thanks to Supermarine.” Cassandra raised her glass. “Cheers.”</p><p>      “Yeah, cheers.” Anthony tilted his head back and downed the shot. Once the others had done the same, he added, “They better like us.”</p><p>       “They’ll like us,” Cassandra soothed. <em> How can they not? </em> The audience had assembled to hear some rockin’ music, and Crucial Taunt would give them what they paid for, and then some. </p><p>       It felt like an eternity before the Bottom of the Hill’s owner came backstage to signal Crucial Taunt to go on. Bass guitar in hand, Cassandra strolled out into the main room. She, Marc, and George all shared an overprotectiveness towards their instruments, preferring to plug in when they got onstage instead of leaving them out in the open. Anthony, unfortunately, didn’t have the luxury of a choice. </p><p> As the band ascended the steps to the stage, one of the boys behind Cassandra muttered, “Here we go.” Though unsure as to who had spoken, Cassandra nodded all the same. <em> Here we go. Tenth show of the month. </em></p><p>Onstage, the spotlight blinded Cassandra, sending a nervous thrill through her. Having only been added to the bill yesterday, Crucial Taunt had nothing in the way of promotional materials. The people who’d come to see the show certainly weren’t expecting them. Had they drawn a good crowd? With the lights in her eyes, it was hard for Cassandra to tell. She immediately went to plug in her bass, before stepping behind the microphone at the foot of the stage. All she could hear from the room was a series of low murmurs. It didn’t sound promising, but Cassandra refused to let the downbeat response occupy her mind. Once George and Marc had plugged in, she gave Anthony a nod.</p><p>       <em> One, two, three… </em>The song opened with a violent screech from Marc’s guitar. Turning back to the audience, Cassandra let a huge smile slip across her face. She locked into the rhythm at once, her fingers sliding across her bass’ smooth strings.</p><p>       <em> “All caught up in your problems. Tell me now, how do you manage?” </em> This was the first song to which Cassandra had ever contributed lyrics, with some touch-ups from George and Anthony. Though she now felt they were amateurish, it served as an excellent opening number to pump up the crowd. <em> “Now your grip’s starting to slip…” </em> Cassandra swayed her hips, moving to the groove. <em> “It’s like you didn’t plan this.” </em></p><p>She stepped away from the microphone, shaking her head to the beat as George and Marc doubled the earworm of a riff. The audience was still quiet, but Cassandra could feel an explosion coming.</p><p>       “<em> You can run, you can hide, ‘til you run out of places. In the end, where are your friends? They’re hiding smiling faces…” </em></p><p> This time, George held down the fort on the riff, while Marc went into one of the flashiest solos in Crucial Taunt’s catalogue. Cassandra suspected that he’d always been the song’s strongest advocate for that very reason. A lone cheer rose up, lifting Cassandra’s heart. <em> Come on. </em>Through sheer force of will, she was going to make the audience love her band.</p><p>       When Marc had finished up with the solo, Cassandra returned to the microphone. George struck a power chord, while Marc tastefully complimented it with his whammy bar. As Cassandra began the last verse, she found herself wishing that she’d asked the sound engineer to add some reverb to her vocals on this section, giving it the same tripped-out effect that it exhibited on their yet-to-be-released recording. She tried to soften and smooth out her voice to make up for it.</p><p>        <em> “You’re shut out, they've shut down. Not buying what you’re selling. When you go, what’ll you know?” </em> Her voice grew in a sudden crescendo. <em> “You’re a dead man, you’re not telling!” </em></p><p> When the riff returned, the audience howled. Cassandra still couldn’t clearly see any faces, but she spotted a rippling motion throughout the crowd, as if a sea of heads were banging. The vague vision told her all she needed to know. Crucial Taunt had succeeded in their quest for love and worship. <em> Yes! </em></p><p>The song ended with an explosive crash, and the audience erupted. Elation filled Cassandra as she gazed out across the room. “Thank you!” It took all she had to refrain from pumping her fist victoriously. “We’re Crucial Taunt!!”</p><p>       After that, the following songs went over as smoothly as the first. Cassandra floated, adrift on a haze of dopamine. It had been too long since she’d felt <em> this </em> happy. <em> This </em> was how performing should <em> always </em>feel. Her bandmates seemed equally exuberant, their energy reflecting unbridled glee. </p><p>       At the end of the fifth song, however, someone hissed from the wings.<em> What? </em> Glancing over, Cassandra spotted the venue owner standing off to the side with a sour look on his face. He tapped his wrist, mouthing <em> time. </em> </p><p><em>        Is he serious? </em> All Cassandra could do was stare back in confusion. They couldn’t wrap it up here… they’d only planned on playing three more songs… Her reluctance to take action seemed to get under the venue owner’s skin. “You’re done!” He held up a single finger, indicating that Crucial Taunt had only one song left to perform. For the first time, Cassandra noticed the members of Yo-Yo’s Roomies, the next band scheduled, hiding in the shadows behind the owner. She bit her tongue to keep herself from swearing. <em> Whose idea was this? </em>They’d played this exact set the night before, and that had been a three-band bill just like tonight… </p><p>       Sensing that the audience was about to get restless, Cassandra turned back to them. The visual standoff had only lasted a few seconds, but it had felt much longer. She plastered on a bright smile. “Okay, we’ve got one more for you! Thank you all for coming out!” Turning to her bandmates, she mouthed the words <em> “Ballroom Blitz.” </em> George and Marc were beacons of confusion, but as Anthony held up his drumsticks, Cassandra caught the stony glint in his eyes. No doubt he’d noticed what had gone down at the side of the stage. Cassandra had a feeling he wouldn’t confront the venue owner, though. <em> Leave that one to me. </em></p><p>       While the shortened set had the potential to throw off Crucial Taunt’s game, “Ballroom Blitz” went over well enough. Cassandra made sure to thank the audience profusely as they packed up. When she left the stage, she gave Yo-Yo’s Roomies a nod of acknowledgement, to show that she understood it wasn’t their fault. The boys, however, didn’t seem to share the sentiment, based on Anthony’s “accidental” shoving of the band’s bass player. The instant Crucial Taunt had left the stage, he rounded on his bandmates, his nostrils flaring.</p><p>       “What was that?!”</p><p>       “We were running long,” Cassandra tried to justify the action, though she wasn’t any happier than Anthony. “They pulled the plug.”</p><p>      “They screwed us over!” Anthony fumed. “They didn’t even let us play our full set. You know, we have enough material to headline a show. We don’t need to be treated this way.”</p><p>       <em> How the tables have turned. </em> The wry thought amused Cassandra. Just yesterday Anthony had told her to lighten up, and now he was the one bummed about not receiving star treatment. Not that he lacked a good reason, though. Cassandra set her bass on the unoccupied sofa. “I’ll settle this.” She marched from backstage, mentally formulating a method of voicing her displeasure while still keeping her cool. She didn’t want to risk not getting paid for her performance, but with every step, her blood boiled. <em> How dare you not give us prior warning about our set? Who do you think you-- </em></p><p>       Cassandra’s thoughts scattered as she came face to face with Leigh, wearing a bubbly smile. “Cassandra! You were ama--” With one glance at Cassandra’s fighting stance, her smile dropped. “Is something wrong?”</p><p>       Cassandra exhaled heavily, the rage inside her dissolving. “They cut us off. We had three more songs.”</p><p>       “What?” Now it was Leigh’s turn to transform into a fighting stance, her back stiffening and her eyebrows mushing together. Outrage colored her voice. “That’s bullshit! You had plenty of time!”</p><p>       “Are you going to do a long set?” Cassandra asked.</p><p>       Leigh shook her head. “We’re doing the same set from last night…” She glanced around, as if searching for the venue’s owner. “Hold on, I’ll make it right.”</p><p>      “No, no!” Visions of Portland began to fill Cassandra’s head. The last thing she wanted was another person needlessly picking a fight on her behalf. “I was just on my way to do that.”</p><p>      “No, it’s okay,” Leigh urged. “We’ll fix it. Just hang on--” Without a word, she dashed off. Cassandra was about to follow her, but a shout from onstage- “How are we doing tonight?”- and the audience’s corresponding cheer diverted her attention. She wandered back to the bar, empty-handed save for a growing sense of frustration.</p><p>       Most of the audience had congregated around the stage, so Cassandra sat down and scanned the room, trying to sort out how she felt about what had just transpired. When it came to Leigh leaping to her defense, all lines of questioning drew a blank. Sometime before she’d met George and Anthony, Cassandra had decided that she wasn’t going to shut up and allow others to make her own decisions, even if it meant getting in the way of a productive working relationship. Her second band hadn’t worked out because the guitarist had taken her outspokenness as insolence. <em> That, and he was also in love with me. </em>Meeting the boys had liberated Cassandra in the same way that moving to America and enrolling in college had, allowing her to immerse herself in an unfamiliar culture and experience the world on her own terms. They never jumped up to fight battles in her place, though they did their best to back her if she ever had a problem. Dealing with a club owner all on her own was expected behavior. So why had Cassandra let Leigh steal her thunder- and more importantly, why had Leigh taken it upon herself? They’d only known each other for two days. It wasn’t as if Leigh owed her- if anything, the opposite was true.</p><p>       None of the boys showed up for a good while. Cassandra assumed they were still sulking backstage. She tried to sit back and listen to Yo-Yo’s Roomies, but their usage of unconventional chords and time signatures did not please her ear. <em> Too experimental for their own good. </em>A drink would help her tolerate them. As she called for the bartender, George came up and slid into the seat beside her. </p><p>       “How are you?” he said, or at least Cassandra thought that was what he said, given that the room was loud and she was no lip-reader. </p><p>      “I don’t know!” she shouted over the noise. “A little pissed!”</p><p>       George nodded, reaching across the bar to grab a bowl of peanuts. Somehow, Cassandra doubted his reticence was due to the loud music. George was easy to vent to because he was an attentive listener, but he’d never been the best at offering advice. Of course, until joining Crucial Taunt, he’d led a pretty uneventful life, with no experience from which to draw said advice. Like the other boys, he enjoyed a good party, but he was equally happy to stay home practicing his scales or reading a book. </p><p>       After only five songs, the singer of Yo-Yo’s Roomies announced that their set was coming to an end. Though Cassandra felt she shouldn’t be surprised, she still raised her eyebrows. <em> Just how long do they think Supermarine’s going to play? </em> And why hadn’t this been worked out <em> beforehand? </em>Part of her wanted to jump up and search for the venue owner, but she stopped herself, remembering how Leigh had told her she would handle it. But wasn’t Leigh about to go onstage? Had she handled it already?</p><p>       By the time Supermarine got onstage, Marc and Anthony had emerged into the main room. They mingled with the crowd, fielding compliments and small talk. Cassandra, however, remained focused on the stage, watching closely as Leigh sat down behind her drum set. She couldn’t decide if she was relieved or annoyed that Leigh had apparently forgotten to settle Crucial Taunt’s score.</p><p>       Gradually the audience members who’d migrated to the bar made their way back to the floor, packing in among those who hadn’t left. Onstage, Supermarine finished setting up. From the tight grip on her microphone, Cassandra could tell that something was bothering Sara. She swayed back and forth with a mixture of nerves and something that Cassandra couldn’t identify. </p><p>       “Thank you for coming,” she announced when Tamanna and Haley had finished tuning. The crowd roared, but the tension in Sara’s body didn’t ease. She peered out, sweeping her gaze across the room. “Um, before we start… does anyone want to see Crucial Taunt finish their set?”</p><p>       <em> What! </em> An electric pulse rippled through Cassandra. She got up dizzily, feeling as if she’d drunk one shot too many. Beside her, George got up as well, staring up at the stage in disbelief. Marc and Anthony broke off their conversations, glancing first to the stage and then to each other. In the end, their eyes landed on Cassandra, who could only gape up at Sara, forgetting every word in the English language. Then she registered the triumphant grin that was filling Leigh’s face. Upon seeing the expression, she couldn’t keep herself from mirroring it. Her thumb shot into the air- <em> YES, we DO want to play! </em>Then she was running for the stage, her bandmates following behind her.</p><p>       The first words spoken to Cassandra as she walked onstage were “It’s all yours,” as Haley held up her bass in offering. The gesture felt like a warm blanket pulled around Cassandra’s shoulders. She hoisted the strap around her neck, touched to her core. <em> “Thank you…” </em>The bass was slightly lighter than the one Cassandra was used to playing, but it would do. One by one, the rest of the band took over. Marc borrowed Tamanna’s guitar and Anthony traded places with Leigh behind the drums. At first it seemed like George might be left out, but then Tina came racing from backstage, carrying George’s guitar. Excitement radiated from the stage to the audience. This was not how Cassandra had planned on being compensated for their short set, but she gladly accepted it, all thanks to…</p><p>       <em> Leigh. </em> Cassandra turned around, to find herself staring into Leigh’s bright sunbeam of a smile. For a second, she felt trapped, unable to find a way to express her gratitude. Then she frantically waved her over. “Hey! Come up here…” She glanced around, spotting Sara retreating to the wings. “Sara! Come back!”</p><p>       Sara jerkily spun around, looking perplexed. Leigh, however, seemed to have caught on to what Cassandra wanted. She beckoned her cousin over as she made her way to the front of the stage. Cassandra waited until the two had reached her side, before filling them in.</p><p>       “Do you know the song ‘Burnin’ Love?’”</p><p>       “Sure,” Leigh said with a fervent nod. Sara nodded too, but she still didn’t seem to grasp Cassandra’s motives. Still, the answer suited Cassandra. “All right. Come up to the mic with me.” She turned to her band. “‘Burnin’ Love,’ okay, guys?”</p><p>       Anthony still seemed as confused as he’d been when Sara called for Crucial Taunt to return to the stage, but nonetheless, he clicked his drumsticks together four times. Unfazed, George and Marc launched into the intro. The moment Cassandra touched the bass’ strings, she felt as if everyone in the room had collectively released a pent-up breath. It had been a long time since Crucial Taunt had played this song, preferring harder material, but Cassandra had always had a soft spot for Elvis. Around her, Leigh and Sara began to dance, though they did so hesitantly, as if they still weren’t sure what they were doing up there. Mentally, Cassandra willed them to stay close to the mic and come in at the right times.</p><p>        <em> “Lord a’mighty, I feel my temperature rising. Higher and higher, it’s burning through my soul.” </em>A few folks at the foot of the stage leaned forward, gazing upwards so that Cassandra could see their beatific faces. Her pulse raced as she swung her loosely-restrained braid over her shoulder. </p><p>
  <em>        “Baby, baby, you’re gonna set me on fire! My brain is flaming, and I don’t know which way to go…” </em>
</p><p> In the split second before the chorus hit, Cassandra gave Sara and Leigh an exaggerated nod. Leigh seemed to get it before Sara did, stepping forward to share the microphone. A strong <em> ahhh </em>spilled from her mouth, wavering slightly in pitch but complimenting Cassandra’s vocals well.</p><p>       <em> “Your kisses lift me higher!” </em> Cassandra crooned. <em> “Like the sweet song of a choir.” </em> Now Sara came closer, joining in on the backing vocals with her hand on Leigh’s back. <em> “You light my morning sky with burning love!” </em></p><p> As soon as Cassandra sang the word <em> “love,” </em> Anthony switched into a half-time rhythm, and Marc pulled out a few guitar <em> twangs. </em>Leigh gave a wordless, joyful shout at the rhythm change, her upper body nodding along with her head. Sara threw her head back, her mouth falling open and her eyes shutting as the music soaked into her soul. Just seeing their reaction encouraged Cassandra to keep going, with even more passion than before. </p><p><em>        “Ooh, ooh, ooh, I feel my temperature rising,” </em> she sang as Anthony switched back into the regular rhythm. <em> “Help me, I’m flaming! I must be a hundred and nine. Burning, burning, burning, and nothing can cool me, yeah.” </em></p><p><em>        “Burning, burning, burning, burning!” </em> Leigh shouted, impromptu. Cassandra squeezed her eyes shut, resisting the urge to punch the air. <em> “I just might turn into smoke, but I feel fine.” </em></p><p>Once again, Sara and Leigh backed Cassandra on the chorus. Their harmonizing was so fresh and spellbinding that it took Cassandra a moment to notice that George and Marc had joined in too. She nodded to them in satisfaction during the half-time break, in lieu of giving them a thumb’s up or a high five. Her voice became hushed as she started the last verse.</p><p>       <em> “It’s coming closer. The flames are now licking my body. Won’t you help me? I feel like I’m slipping away.”  </em></p><p><em>       “My chest is heaving, ooh!” </em> Sara suddenly chimed in, a third above Cassandra’s pitch. Her ragged, nasally voice blended surprisingly well with Cassandra’s rich soprano shriek. On the last line, Leigh added a lower harmony as an anchor. <em> “Lord have mercy, I’m burning a hole where I lay!” </em></p><p> “YEAH!” Cassandra shouted, right before the last chorus. Chills ran up her spine. Considering that this was the first time she’d sung with any member of Supermarine, she couldn’t believe how perfectly their voices fit together. A fleeting thought ran through her head- <em> where were you two years ago when I was trying to form my band? </em></p><p>The audience was cheering long before the song finished, practically drowning out the band. Their rapturous reaction overwhelmed Cassandra. She turned to Leigh, her arms out, but it was Leigh who grabbed her and pulled her into an awkward embrace. The bass guitar was crushed between them, but Leigh didn’t seem to mind, only locking her arms tighter around Cassandra. When she pulled away, her delirious beaming lit Cassandra from head to toe. </p><p>       “That was amazing, Leigh!”</p><p>       “No, y-<em> you’re </em>amazing!”</p><p>       “Whoo!” George cheered, shaking his fists at the appreciative crowd. “Thank you so much! That’s Cassandra Wong singing for you tonight, with Marc Abbott on lead guitar, and…”</p><p>       He paused, biting back the rest of the introductions. Cassandra watched him with a raised eyebrow. <em> Did you forget our own drummer’s name? </em>She gestured to the women flanking her. “Let’s give it up for Sara and Leigh! And in case you missed it…” She pointed to the drum set. “That’s Anthony on…”</p><p>       Her words died just as George’s had, upon realizing that no one was sitting behind her. In the blink of an eye, Anthony had fled the stage.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Most of the band names in this story are references to something. If you get the Yo-Yo's Roomies reference, you have my eternal respect.</p><p>Inspiration for <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IFJF-iKWQsA">"Fugitive" by Crucial Taunt</a></p><p>This rendition of "Burning Love" is a mix between <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q0LJbbA_YKY">Wynonna's version</a> and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7_3TYARbH1Y">Ronnie Spector's version.</a></p><p>Next chapter: A clash of egos. Leigh &amp; Cassandra’s partnership prospers.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Out of Control</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>5/24/93: Crucial Taunt and Supermarine arrive in Oakland. Ground rules are laid out and a song is finished.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>       Anthony wasn’t talking to Cassandra. Not during their post-show bar outing, nor the drive from the Bottom of the Hill to the hotel that Tina had booked for Supermarine. When Cassandra settled into the seat on the bus across the aisle from him, he got up and moved away. His behavior confounded her completely. Why did he suddenly have a problem with her? What exactly had she done wrong? Shouldn’t he be jumping for joy and thanking Supermarine for allowing Crucial Taunt to finish their live set?  </p><p>        In no time, the Supermarine members were staggering off the bus with their luggage in hand and words of parting on their lips. Cassandra smiled as she waved them off, but inside, she felt put out. All her good vibes from the night’s performance had fled. It was imperative that she speak with Anthony as soon as possible, in private, because she wasn’t about to let him stew in his juices for one more second. Up front, Marc sat with his guitar in hand, and a few rows down, George rolled down a window, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Anthony, however, was nowhere to be found, so Cassandra assumed he’d fled beyond the black curtain in the back of the bus, like a child hiding from an angered parent. She rose from her seat, ready to discover if her suspicions were correct.</p><p>       Supermarine’s tour bus wasn’t exactly the hot celebrity ride of the type that Cassandra had seen on <em> Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous </em> , but the curtain in the back did conceal two rows of bunk beds, plus the door to the bathroom. Belatedly Cassandra realized that she hadn’t discussed with Supermarine what beds went to which band member, or where she and the boys were supposed to shower. <em> I suppose we’ll settle that in the morning. </em>For now, she’d take the bottom bunk on the left, and pray that Supermarine would allow her to sneak into their room for some hot water. Carefully she parted the black curtain. Just as she’d suspected, Anthony was standing between the bunks, shirtless and shoeless. He turned around when Cassandra approached, but once he saw who it was, he hastily turned back and grabbed his discarded shirt. “Hey,” he muttered.</p><p>       “Hey,” Cassandra said.  She folded her arms across her chest and watched, mildly entertained, as Anthony pulled his shirt back on. <em> As if he needs to cover up around me. </em>“Are you going to tell me why you’re mad at me?”</p><p>       “I’m not <em> mad </em>at you,” Anthony retorted. He sat down on the bottom bunk to the right, leaning backwards on his hands. “Just… not exactly thrilled.”</p><p>       “About what?”</p><p>       “Just…” Anthony sighed. “The show, man.”</p><p>       “What <em> about </em>the show?”</p><p>       “Playing a cover was a bad call.” Anthony grimaced towards the floor. “It’s like… they gave us a chance, and we--”</p><p>       “Cut the crap, Anthony,” Cassandra cut in. She unfolded her arms and let them slide to her sides. “We played covers back in Milwaukee <em> and </em>Chicago. Just tell me what’s going on.”</p><p>       Anthony shook his head, still looking pained. “You don’t want to hear it.”</p><p>       “Of course I do,” Cassandra insisted. “If something’s bothering you, it affects the whole band.”</p><p>       “It was you and those girls, okay?” Anthony burst out. “I didn’t- it wasn’t <em> fair </em>of you to…” He fell silent, side-eyeing Cassandra, seemingly daring her to piece together what he meant.</p><p>        Fortunately, Cassandra understood right away. How could she not? She’d just ended a relationship with someone who’d felt the same way Anthony was feeling now. <em> He sees Leigh and Sara as a threat to our band. He thinks I’ll favor them as musicians and kick him out. </em>Instead of feeling angry, like she had with Wayne, the revelation left Cassandra baffled. Anthony had always been cautious, but it was unlike him to take a harmless collaboration as a portent of doom. Or… was it unlike him? Having never been in this situation with her band before, Cassandra got the feeling that not even Anthony understood his own reactions.</p><p>       “Anthony…” Cassandra stepped forward. Unlike the last time she’d dealt with such an issue, an apology was in order. “I’m sorry about the show. I acted without thinking. But you can’t just walk out and leave us high and dry, okay?” She knelt beside the bunk, gazing at Anthony until he met her eyes. “If you have a problem, you wait until the show’s over, and then you talk to me.”</p><p>       “Sorry,” Anthony muttered. “I… acted without thinking, too.”</p><p>       “Apology accepted.” Cassandra stood up. “Let me know when you’re done changing.” She turned and retreated to the other side of the curtain, her head churning.</p><p>       Now that Anthony had voiced his displeasure, Cassandra knew she had to take it seriously. She didn’t want her band to fall apart before they'd released a single album. But Anthony's negative reaction to inviting Sara and Leigh onstage complicated the creative partnership that Cassandra had begun to consider earlier. If Anthony didn’t want anyone from Supermarine to join Crucial Taunt onstage, he <em> really </em>wasn’t going to like that Cassandra had written an entire song with one of them. </p><p>       Was pursuing a writing partnership with Leigh worth it? Or should Cassandra stay away for the band’s sake? No amount of questioning could provide her with the right answer. All she knew was what she <em> wanted- </em> but how could she know if that was what was <em> best? </em></p><p>*</p><p>       Sleeping in the back of Supermarine’s tour bus turned out to be a non-issue. The mattress was just as comfortable as the one in the back of the Silver Bullet, and despite George’s snoring and Anthony’s restlessness in the bunk above her, Cassandra didn’t lift her head from the pillow until morning the following day. A voice from beyond the black curtain startled her to wakefulness. “Knock knock.”</p><p>        “What is it?” Cassandra mumbled.</p><p>       The person who’d spoken peeled back the curtain, revealing herself to be Tina, fully dressed in her khaki cargo shorts and a tank top. She glanced quickly from one set of bunk beds to the next. “Is everyone awake?”</p><p>       “I’m not,” George groaned from the bunk across from Cassandra.</p><p>       Tina continued as if she hadn’t heard. “We’re driving to Oakland in a few hours. I need you all up and dressed by ten o’clock. The continental breakfast at the Best Western is free for hotel patrons, but when it comes to you four, it’s my treat.”</p><p>       A hand shot into the air from Marc’s bunk. “Right on, man.”</p><p>       “Thanks, Tina,” Cassandra made sure to add. She waited for Tina to slip back behind the curtain, before rolling out of bed and heading over to where she’d left her suitcase the night before. The idea of breakfast had certainly gotten her attention. Now that she was awake, she was ravenous.</p><p>       After rummaging through her suitcase, Cassandra retreated to the bathroom to assemble the day’s outfit. Though she doubted the heat had receded since yesterday, she chose a long-sleeved black T-shirt with a low-cut neckline, over a pair of skinny jeans. Through the jeans she threaded a black, rhinestone-encrusted belt, before slipping in two rhinestone stud earrings to complete the picture. She brushed her hair, washed her face, and cleaned her teeth before walking out of the bus on black open-toed pumps.</p><p>         The dining area at the Best Western was located to the right of the lobby. Cassandra had only taken a few steps when she spied Leigh and Sara huddled around a table. <em> Great. Just the two I wanted to see. </em>She came forward with a smile on her face. “Good morning!”</p><p>       Leigh was the first to look up. The moment she caught sight of Cassandra, the smile on her own face put Cassandra’s to shame. She looked as if she were a child opening presents on Christmas morning. “Cassandra! Hey!”</p><p>         Cassandra halted at the table, placing one hand on her hip. “What’s going on?” She scanned the room, taking in the cereal dispenser, the basket of fresh fruit, the covered silver trays of bacon and eggs. </p><p>        “Nothing much,” Sara murmured.</p><p>        “Just eating breakfast,” Leigh added. “Uh…” She swept her fingers through her hair. “How was your first night on the bus?”</p><p>        “It was fine,” Cassandra said. “I can’t complain.”</p><p>       Leigh made a face. “It sucks that you guys can’t get a room next to ours.”</p><p>      “I wish we could. But for us, every penny counts.” Cassandra took a step back. “I’m gonna go get some food, okay?”</p><p>       Both Leigh and Sara gave a thumb’s up, then laughed in unison. Though Cassandra laughed a bit too as she walked away, seeing Sara and Leigh again brought the discussion that she’d had last night with Anthony simmering in the forefront of her mind. Part of her felt it unnecessary to mention Anthony’s reaction to their performance as backing vocalists. Whatever he had a problem with was Crucial Taunt’s business, not Supermarine’s. But now that Sara and Leigh had been invited to sing with Cassandra, what if they expected to do so for the rest of the tour? And did the other two members of Supermarine have objections similar to Anthony's? </p><p>        After filling her plate with eggs, a banana, and a small container of yogurt, Cassandra turned back to the table, preparing to speak with Sara and Leigh. But once she caught sight of who had joined them, her desire to discuss business shriveled. Tamanna and Haley were seating themselves around the table, just barely leaving room for Cassandra. Despite her dampened spirit, Cassandra tried to keep a positive outlook. <em> Might as well discuss this with the entire band.  </em></p><p>“Hey, Cassandra,” Tamanna greeted Cassandra as she pulled up a chair from a nearby table. Seated next to Sara, she placed a hand on her shoulder, and when Sara glanced over, she darted in to peck her cheek. “You ready to head back to Oakland?”</p><p>       “Oakland?” Cassandra frowned, setting aside her conversation starter. “My band just played Oakland, three days ago.” She sat down and placed her plate in front of her.</p><p>       A mischievous smile appeared on Tamanna’s face. “I guess you're gonna retrace your steps.”</p><p>       The prospect didn’t entice Cassandra. Crucial Taunt had done a decent job in Oakland- though of course, Cassandra hadn’t really been in the mood to care- but returning to the city so soon felt like the opposite of progress. She opened her yogurt container and plunged a spoon into it. <em> Maybe we shouldn’t play tonight… </em> Quickly she shoved the thought aside. Of <em> course </em> Crucial Taunt should play. What would be the point of backing out? <em> At least we’re still on the road. We knew what we were getting into. </em></p><p> “Where’d you play last time?” Haley asked brightly. Now that she and her bandmates had shed their matching outfits from last night’s show, Cassandra noticed that each had a distinct style. Haley wore a white strapless dress with a turtleneck and pleated skirt. Around her waist was a belt with a large silver buckle, and her bleached-blonde coifs were held back with a light pink headband. Tamanna also wore a dress, although hers was form-fitting and sleeveless, the color of an eggplant. She’d tied back her black hair with an elastic band, and for the first time Cassandra noticed a trio of stars tattooed on her wrist. Sara wore short-shorts, flip flops, and a maroon tank top, each item of clothing looking exceptionally worn. Only Leigh remained unchanged in her ripped jeans and <em> London Calling </em> T-shirt.</p><p>        “We booked some dive bar,” Cassandra responded. “It was wild.” If only she’d been able to enjoy it more.</p><p>       Haley pursed her lips. “It wasn’t the Stork Club, was it?”</p><p>       “No…” Cassandra struggled to recall the name. “That doesn’t sound familiar.”</p><p>       “Good, ‘cause that’s where we’re playing tonight,” Tamanna said. She smoothed out her forehead bangs and rubbed at the corners of her eyes. “It’s dive-y as all get-out. You’ll love it.”</p><p>        “I hope so.” Cassandra figured she probably would, though not as much as the boys. The major upside to playing small venues was the greater chance of a sold-out show. </p><p>        “How’d you sleep on the bus?” Haley asked. The interest in her voice seemed merely cursory. Under the table, her fingers drummed against her knee, her body poised to leap up at any moment. Not wanting to keep Haley from her awaiting breakfast, Cassandra shrugged. “Can’t complain. I’ve slept in worse places.”</p><p>        “Oh, okay,” Haley said. “Uh, what about your...”</p><p>       “The boys are still on the bus,” Cassandra said. “Probably either dead to the world, or… fighting over whose turn it is to use the bathroom.”</p><p>       “Oh,” Haley laughed in a strained manner. “Boys will be boys, huh?” She didn’t even wait for Cassandra to react before sliding from her seat and flouncing off towards the breakfast spread. </p><p>        “Wow,” Cassandra murmured. “Remind me again, she’s the one who talks all the time?”</p><p>        Leigh laughed abruptly. “Depends on who she’s talking to. Nothing against <em> you, </em>of course.” She popped a forkful of eggs into her mouth. Seeing no point in pursuing the conversation, Cassandra began to tuck into her yogurt. Perhaps she should wait for Haley to get back before raising the topic of last night’s performance… The food she was consuming drove her to distraction.  She swallowed a few bites before speaking.  "Um..."</p><p>        Across the table, Leigh leaned forward, a shadow of concern crossing her face. “What?”</p><p>       “Is your manager…” Cassandra glanced at Tamanna and Sara to make sure she had their attention. “Is she, er… prone to random acts of kindness?"</p><p>        “What d’you mean?” Tamanna said.</p><p>       “She said she’s going to pay for our breakfast,” Cassandra said. “Does she do stuff like that often?”</p><p>        Tamanna raised her eyebrows. “She’s not paying for <em> our </em>breakfast.”</p><p>        “It’s just because your van burned down,” Leigh stated nonchalantly. “She knows you’re tight on cash.”</p><p>        “Yeah…” Tamanna’s voice was contemplative. “I guess we haven’t set any boundaries.” She spoke as if the idea was only just occurring to her. Immediately Cassandra felt her heart open like a flower in bloom. Without knowing it, Tamanna had conveniently set up exactly the kind of conversation she’d been hoping to have. </p><p>        “This isn’t much of a boundary.” Cassandra gestured to the inches of air separating herself and Tamanna. The joke earned a smirk from Tamanna, which was about all it deserved, but Leigh broke into full-blown laughter, sliding her hand over her eyes. Astounded, Cassandra could do nothing but stare. <em>Am I really THAT funny?  </em></p><p>        “Hey, what’s so funny?” Anthony’s sharp voice sailed through the air, scattering the sense of humor like a group of flies being swatted. Marc was right behind him as he approached the table. While the members of Supermarine displayed their own individual styles, distinct from last night’s matching outfits, neither of Cassandra’s bandmates looked as if they had changed. Both wore bleach-spotted jeans and long vests, Anthony bare-chested while Marc’s vest was layered over his Van Halen T-shirt.</p><p>        Cassandra beamed up at the boys, trying to charm them with a sense of innocence. “Nothing much, we were just talking about you.” </p><p>        Anthony nodded once, as if he’d been expecting Cassandra to say that. He grabbed a chair from the nearest table and pulled it up next to her. “Good things, I hope?” </p><p>        “Well, if you think whiskey dick is a <em> good </em>thing…” Leigh replied without missing a beat.</p><p>        Now it was Cassandra’s turn to fall over laughing. “Oh my god! Leigh!” Gasping for breath, she tried to pull herself together for Anthony’s sake. “It’s not true. As if any of us could know <em> that!” </em></p><p>“Or want to know,” Leigh added, which nearly set Cassandra off again. “Don’t be angry, Anthony…”</p><p>        “Oh, it’s fine.” Stone-faced, Anthony sat down. “At least you weren’t talking about replacing me, huh?”</p><p>         “What’s that supposed to mean?” Cassandra had a feeling she knew exactly what it was supposed to mean, but it seemed odd for Anthony to still be angry over the events of last night. <em> Surely he knows I wouldn’t dream of doing that.  </em></p><p>        Instead of answering, Anthony let his gaze wander, right as Haley returned with a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice. She slipped back into her seat, and Marc followed her, pulling up a chair between her and Anthony. Anthony didn’t care to regard either of them, his eyes cast to the table. Now that he was silent, he didn’t seem to be as moody, but Cassandra still spied storm clouds on the horizon. <em> Okay. </em>Assuming his issues had anything to do with the band, Cassandra readied herself to meet his complaints.</p><p>       “Tamanna was just saying, we need to set some boundaries,” she announced.</p><p>       “Heck yeah we do.” Anthony glanced up, staring at the members of Supermarine as if trying to place which one was which. “There’s some stuff I’d like to go over before tonight’s show.”</p><p>      “Go for it,” Tamanna said, as calm as the surface of water poured into a glass. </p><p>      “Shouldn’t George be here?” Marc spoke up, though his gaze was still occupied with Haley as she dug into her cereal. </p><p>        “It’s fine.” Anthony dismissively waved a hand. “You’ll get him up to speed later, right?”</p><p>       Cassandra nodded. “I will if Marc won’t.”</p><p>        “Okay.” Tamanna swung her legs over her seat so that she was facing Anthony. Her rich brown eyes bore into him. “What did you want to get straight?”</p><p>        “Okay, first off.” Anthony lifted a finger and tapped it against the table. “We need to figure out how long our sets are going to be. If they give us thirty, we should <em> have </em>thirty, period.”</p><p>       “We appreciate that you gave up some of your time for us,” Cassandra added. “That was very kind of you.”</p><p>        “Least we could do,” Sara half-mumbled, so that Cassandra had to strain to hear her. Leigh, on the other hand, seemed unfazed. “<em>We </em> didn’t cut you off, though. That was what’s-his-face, who owns the place.”</p><p>       “Hey, I’m not saying it was your fault,” Anthony said. “I just don’t want it to happen again.”</p><p>        “And it won’t,” Tamanna said evenly. The more she spoke, the more Cassandra got the feeling that she was Tina’s protegee, a manager in waiting. “We’re gonna get to Oakland pretty early. If you want, we could go see if they’ll let us into the Stork Club during the day so you can run through your set and make sure you don’t have to cut anything.”</p><p>       “That sounds good,” Cassandra said, taking charge. She waited for the boys to nod or murmur in agreement.  </p><p>       Tamanna flashed an unassuming smile. “Cool--”</p><p>        “There is one thing about the set, though,” Anthony blurted, barely giving Tamanna time to finish her single syllable. Instead of proceeding, he shot Cassandra a certain look. Cassandra swallowed a sigh. <em> Why can’t you say it yourself, Anthony? </em>She didn’t mind being the first to bring it up, since she’d been planning on doing so before her bandmates had arrived, but she didn’t want Anthony to get the idea that it was okay to hide behind her.</p><p>         “Last night was fun when we performed together,” Cassandra said. “But we need to figure out if that’s going to be a regular thing.”</p><p>        Tamanna’s eyebrows rose again. “Did you want it to be a regular thing?”</p><p>       “Well…” Cassandra glanced at Anthony, mentally turning it over to him. After all, Crucial Taunt was meant to be led by a majority rule, and Anthony was the only one who’d raised opposition. In order to maintain balance, she had to let his voice be heard. But Anthony stayed silent, apparently not on the same page as Cassandra. Deciding not to single him out, she forged ahead.</p><p>       “I kept Sara and Leigh onstage last night because I wanted to thank you for letting us finish our set. It won’t happen again, unless you want it to.”</p><p>        “What about what <em>we</em> want?” Anthony immediately piped up. “It’s not up to <em>them. </em>You’re the one who wanted them onstage.”</p><p>        Before Cassandra could scramble together a response, Leigh snapped, “Do you have a problem with us?” The hostility in her voice was downright jarring.  Evidently everyone else felt the same way, because the only word spoken for a long moment afterwards was a <em> sotto voce </em>“Easy” from Sara.</p><p>       Finally Anthony broke the silence. “I just didn’t like you ladies stealing our thunder.” He crossed his arms, his gaze impenetrable save a telltale gleam in his eye that indicated he knew he’d found Leigh’s weakness. Never had Cassandra seen Anthony exploit such a weakness, but Leigh didn’t know him well enough. If she thought she'd tipped her hand and given him something to use against her, she'd probably double down on her caginess. The tension in the air grew thicker. </p><p>       “If you didn’t want anyone else up there, you could have told us,” Sara said, sounding bewildered. Her voice rose to what would have been a shout for anyone else, but for her, it was a reasonable volume.  “We would have left the stage if we’d known.” </p><p>        Cassandra shook her head, sharply eyeing Anthony. “This isn’t your fault.” <em> You’re the one who wanted them onstage, what about what WE want… </em>Both his outburst and Leigh’s had taken her aback. She couldn’t figure out whether she admired Anthony’s ballsiness, or resented that he had singled her out when she’d tried to avoid doing the same for him. </p><p>        “It’s not even your problem, actually. Anthony and I will discuss this alone.” </p><p>       “Fine.” Leigh’s voice was still frosty, but the glare she leveled at Anthony made it obvious that it wasn’t Cassandra who had pissed her off. “Just remember, I vouched for your band. Don’t make me regret that.” </p><p>       “Whoa!” Anthony exclaimed. “What’s with the threats?” His words overlapped with Tamanna’s- “Leigh, it’s okay. We’ll work it out.”</p><p>       Silence fell over the table once again. Leigh set her jaw and slouched in her seat, the perfect image of a moody teenager who’d received everything for their sweet sixteen except what they wanted the most. Sara glanced down, picking at her food as if to preoccupy herself, but Cassandra caught her stealing side-glances as she waited for someone to speak. Anthony didn’t simmer outwardly, but the lack of a smile on his face spoke volumes, while Haley and Marc stared at once another, clearly unsure of how to insert themselves into the conversation. Only Tamanna remained calm, folding her arms across the table. Cassandra was starting to wonder if they’d all turned to stone, when she spied George crossing the floor, an unexpected savior.</p><p>       “Mornin’!” George exclaimed as he approached the table. “How’s…” He trailed off, growing tentative as the sullen faces surrounding him sunk in. “Man, who died?”</p><p>        “No one important,” Tamanna murmured, betraying no internal distress. “We’re having a discussion.”</p><p>       Anthony snorted. “I wouldn’t call it a--”</p><p>       “That’s <em> enough, </em>okay?” Cassandra cried.</p><p>      All eyes turned toward Cassandra, and she gazed steadily back. Now that she held the floor, she found she didn’t want to give it up. Listening to her bandmates snipe with each other was one thing, but seeing them take it out on the ones who’d picked them up and set them back on their feet rubbed Cassandra the wrong way. Inside her, her limits had been pushed to the point of breaking.</p><p>       “No more passive-aggression.” Cassandra spread her hands. “No more threatening. I know we are feeling tense. It’s hard on the road- we all know that! But learning how to get along is also hard. I say try to enjoy this while it lasts, and if anyone has a problem, we can work it out first thing instead of waiting.” She resisted the urge to add <em> right, Anthony, </em> to her statement. <em> Someone’s done a 180 since LA. </em>Or rather, since Supermarine had come on board, come to think of it. </p><p>“Right,” Tamanna added, as if she’d been expecting this result. “It’s all about communication.” Sara nodded sagely in support of her girlfriend. Not to be outdone, Marc and Haley nodded as well, while Anthony remained motionless, mulling over what Cassandra had just said. George merely stood with his brow knit, trying to piece together what had just happened. “Did I miss--”</p><p>       “It’s okay, man,” Marc said to him. “We’ll fill you in later.” </p><p>       Besides Anthony, Leigh was the only one at the table who didn’t nod. She stared at Cassandra as if trying to make up her mind about her. <em> Genius, or a bitch with hot blood and a cold heart? </em>Some days, Cassandra wasn’t sure herself which extreme she came closest to embodying. She hoped whatever Leigh settled on would serve her well. </p><p>        “Okay, I dunno what happened,” George announced. “But I agree with Cassandra.”</p><p>       Cassandra smirked up at her friend. “As well you should.”</p><p>        Her simple statement shattered the ongoing tension. Tamanna got up from her seat and offered her hand to Anthony. “Hi. I think we got off on the wrong foot.”</p><p>       “No worries,” Anthony assured Tamanna. “I was being a jerk. I’m sorry.” He took her hand and shook it. Nearby, Haley and Marc shared a smile.</p><p>        Determined to have the last word, Cassandra raised her voice. “So who’s ready for Oakland?”</p><p>        “Oakland?!” A flurry of conversation rose up around the tables, and with it came a warm atmosphere. Cassandra hoped to the bottom of her heart that the feeling would last. She’d successfully gotten Crucial Taunt over another hurdle, but things happened so quickly on the road. Only time would tell if the Crucial Taunt-Supermarine alliance would hold up.</p><p>       She gazed across the table, just in time to watch Leigh getting out of her seat. Without a word, she turned tail and left, slipping out so quietly that none of her bandmates remarked on her departure. As she headed for the lobby, an urge to call out to her stirred in Cassandra. Losing an argument was tough, and though Cassandra still didn’t understand where her defensiveness had come from, she wanted to make sure Leigh knew there were no hard feelings. But the words shriveled in her mouth, and as much as she wanted her to, Leigh didn’t come back. </p><p>*</p><p>       The Stork Club was just as much a dive as Tamanna had hyped it up to be. Between the checkered-floor game room, the cartoonish, spray-paint murals, and the stickers sporting various band names that clung to the wall behind the stage, it was a perfect fit for Crucial Taunt. And the fact that they’d arrived so early in the day was even better. Once they were given the go-ahead, the band set up onstage and spent the next few minutes working on their levels. Then they ran through the entire set as planned for the night. Taking into account the audience’s applause and Cassandra’s brief song introductions, the entire performance fell just shy of thirty minutes. <em> Thank god. Guess that guy at the Bottom of the Hill was just an asshole. </em></p><p>At the end of the set, Cassandra grabbed her water bottle from where she’d left it on the stage floor. “Great work, guys.” She unscrewed the bottle’s cap.  “Let’s save it for the show.”</p><p>      “Way ahead of you, Cass!” George exclaimed. He leapt off the foot of the stage, his shoes making a satisfying <em> clunk </em>against the floor. Marc was right behind him with a running start, as if practicing his stage dive. </p><p>      “We’re gonna go check out this bong shop Tamanna told us about.”</p><p>       “Hey, I said <em> save it </em> for the show!” Cassandra ribbed. “Not <em> blaze it!” </em></p><p>George and Marc laughed as they disappeared out the main entrance. Onstage, Anthony stepped out from behind his drum set, twirling one stick in the air. </p><p>       “I’m gonna go find a laundromat,” he said to Cassandra. “Is there anything you need washed?”</p><p>       Gratefulness spread through Cassandra. When the tour had first started, she’d agreed with the boys to take turns doing the laundry every week, but with the recent loss of Wayne and Garth, then the loss of the Silver Bullet, and now their current regrouping, she’d lost track of their schedule entirely. Anthony’s offer struck her an implicit olive branch, a <em> sorry for all the trouble I caused you this morning. </em>She came over to pat his shoulder. “Not much. Just remember to read the tags this time, okay?”</p><p>       “Okay.” A cautious smile filled Anthony’s face. He slipped away from Cassandra and headed offstage, leaving her alone to collect her gear and her thoughts.</p><p>       Just as Cassandra had finished packing up her bass, up walked Leigh, the empty room emphasizing her small stature. Cassandra gave her a smile and a nod of polite acknowledgement, but she didn’t engage her in conversation. She wasn’t one to let resentment control her, and she understood that whatever Leigh had had a problem with over breakfast was nothing that Cassandra had caused. All the same, it was up to Leigh to make the first move, if either of them had to mention the incident at all. </p><p>        “Did you get to time your set?” Leigh asked as Cassandra stepped off stage, taking her bass with her.</p><p>       “Yeah.” Cassandra swept an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “If you see the owner, tell him thanks. The early soundcheck helped a lot. And thanks to Tamanna for suggesting it.”</p><p>       “You got it.” Leigh shifted in place, her gaze flickering briefly to the stage. “Um… I was wondering if you wanted to work on that song now that you’re done? Like, no pressure or anything…”</p><p>       “Which song?” Cassandra said. “‘Lost Cause?’” </p><p>       “Yeah.” There was a bashful air about Leigh, as if she didn’t want to look Cassandra in the eye.</p><p>       “Didn’t we finish that one…”</p><p>      Leigh shrugged. “I just, uh, thought we could start working on the music now that we’re done with the lyrics. I totally get it if you’d rather show it to your band first, though.”</p><p>        <em> My band. </em>Cassandra wrestled with the temptation. Logically, she knew that she should at least mention the song to her bandmates before moving forward with it. Working with Leigh felt like two-timing Crucial Taunt, and she knew at least one of her bandmates would feel the exact same way. But at the same time… she desperately wanted to tell Anthony to suck it up. To run off and play music with Leigh, because collaboration did not mean disloyalty. Not to mention, she couldn’t think of a better way to spend a springtime afternoon in an unfamiliar city.</p><p>        Cassandra smiled at Leigh. “Let me go plug this back in, and I’ll be ready.”</p><p>       “Actually…” Leigh rubbed her hands together. “What if we went for a walk?”</p><p>        “What do you mean?”</p><p>       “There’s this park across town that I like,” Leigh responded. “Wanna go soak up some vitamin D?”</p><p>       Cassandra’s anticipation increased tenfold. “Sure!” She indicated the bass in her hand. “I’m just gonna go put this away.” Parks didn’t tend to have free sources of electricity, into which she could plug an amp. But she was sure George would understand her reasons for stealing his only acoustic guitar. </p><p>*</p><p>       “So do you usually write your stuff on your own?”</p><p>       Cassandra turned her head from the fuzzy dice adorning her cab driver’s rearview mirror. Though a cajon and a guitar case had been wedged between them, she managed to catch Leigh’s eye. “Huh?”</p><p>       “When you write songs…” Leigh scratched the back of her head, tousling her buzzed hair. “Do you usually write them with the whole band, or by yourself?”</p><p>       “It depends.” Cassandra flashed through a mental snapshot of her band’s unfinished album, trying to determine who had written what. Most tracks had everyone’s fingerprints all over them, passed around like a well-rolled joint. It was impossible to tell where Cassandra’s part began and George’s part ended, or where Marc’s idea had diluted Anthony’s.</p><p>       “Like I told you, we’re collaborative. I write most of my lyrics by myself, but the boys help me when I need it. Mostly to, uh… proofread my English.” Though Cassandra had been speaking English half her life, she’d only considered herself truly fluent after her college ESL classes. Meaning was crucial when it came to writing, and no matter how perfectly Cassandra thought she’d expressed herself, she always made sure to run her lyrics by her bandmates, on the lookout for any ringing bells. “But I’m not the only one who writes lyrics. Anthony and George wrote most of our stuff. I helped them with ‘Touch Me,’ but ‘Ballroom Blitz’ was all theirs.”</p><p>        “George wrote ‘Ballroom Blitz?’” Leigh said. She raised her eyebrows. “Every time I’m near that guy, it’s like I’m the only person who exists in his world.” </p><p>       <em> Same with how Marc stares at Haley, </em>Cassandra thought. She wondered if Marc would have better luck in that department. “Yeah, sorry about that. If you want I can talk to him.”</p><p>       Leigh frowned in a <em> nah, we’re good </em>way. “That’s not your job. I can handle him.”</p><p>      Cassandra offered a small smile. “I don’t doubt it.” She turned her attention to the city scenery crawling past her window. There was no denying it- California was gorgeous. She couldn’t wait to feel the sun on her face and the grass between her toes.</p><p>       After a pause, Leigh spoke again. “Hey, um. About that stuff that happened this morning…”</p><p>       <em> There it is. </em>Again Cassandra glanced at Leigh. “Yeah?” Leigh was staring right back, fiddling with a pair of sunglasses in her hands. She exhaled slowly, releasing tension. </p><p>       “I really… I didn't mean to. Um. Get between you and your bandmates, or anything. I just--” Leigh dropped the sunglasses and threw up her hands, her rigid fingers grasping at the air.  “I guess I was being territorial. I’m sorry.”</p><p>       “It’s okay.” Cassandra tried to imbue every word with sincerity. “I don’t hold anything against you.” Though her bandmates- or to be specific, one bandmate- might disagree. <em> So does that apology go for the whole band, or just me? </em> Out of all the members of Crucial Taunt, Leigh seemed to have the least amount of problems with Cassandra. The reason for that mystified her. <em> Is it because I’m the only woman in the band? Is it because she’s… </em></p><p>When the taxi reached Mosswood Park, Cassandra was both disappointed, and unsurprised. There was something very mainstream and clean-cut about the park, nothing like the rough-edged Stork Club to which she had just bid au revoir. But for songwriting purposes, it would provide a nice change of scenery. Leigh graciously paid for the taxi without asking, before lugging her cajon onto the sidewalk. Shouldering George’s guitar, Cassandra faced Leigh. “Where’s the nearest bench?”</p><p>       Leigh pulled her sunglasses on. “Let’s walk for a bit.” She strolled ahead, firmly gripping her cajon under one muscular arm. As she moved, the sunlight played against her chestnut hair, exposing strands that were close to red. Something about her short haircut suited Cassandra, although she would have never gone for the style herself.</p><p>       A little ways down the walking path, Leigh veered off into the grass. She set her cajon down and stretched out her arms, revolving slowly as if trying to catch the light from every angle. Sensing that this wasn’t a moment to disrupt, Cassandra hung back and watched. Leigh had seemed completely at home behind a drum set at the Blue Heron Brewery and later at the Bottom of the Hill, but now Cassandra realized those homes were only temporary. Out in the open air, Leigh thrived. When she faced Cassandra, wide-eyed and grinning that chip-toothed grin, Cassandra felt… <em> something </em>shoot through her. It was close to admiration, but it lacked a specific purpose. She pushed the feeling away, flustered.</p><p>       “You wanna unpack?” Leigh said, nodding to the guitar that Cassandra had forgotten she was carrying. </p><p>       “Sure…” Grateful for the distraction, Cassandra knelt and slid the guitar case off her shoulder. The earth felt solid and refreshingly sturdy beneath her. She wished she’d brought a towel, so she could spread out and plaster her entire body against it.</p><p>        With a minimal exchange of words, the two musicians set to work. After tuning, Cassandra began to match the notes of “Lost Cause” to a corresponding chord. Having spent so long focusing on bass, she was rusty when it came to the proper positions, but Leigh didn't complain, as she knew nothing about playing guitar Aside from some good-natured ribbing, that was. “Who let the rhythm section write a song? Good lord! What were we thinking?”</p><p>       “Just you wait,” Cassandra murmured, listening to the resonance of her E string. “Once the rhythm section starts singing, it’s all over.”</p><p>        “That’s not fair.” Leigh playfully pushed Cassandra’s shoulder. “You already can sing.”</p><p>        “So can <em> you!” </em></p><p> “I guess...”</p><p>       Eventually, having worked out the chords, Cassandra took out a pick and began to play the simple bassline she’d come up with. A thrill built in her belly as Leigh joined in on the cajon. The green grass around her, the joggers passing by, and the couples walking hand in hand spurred Cassandra to sing. </p><p>       “<em>You better shut the door, before he feeds you that line. He says he wants you back, but he can’t make up his mind. What’s a strong, independent woman to do? While you were dreaming of him, he was sleeping on you.” </em></p><p>       The world fell away from Cassandra’s awareness. All she could see were the faces in her mind’s eye, those of the man who’d loved her and the other man he had hurt for her sake. She belted out the chorus as if she were standing under sweltering spotlights before an adoring audience. On every other line, Leigh joined in with a low harmony.  </p><p>       <em> “He’s a lost cause, baby, better knock him flat. Move along, move along, you’ll be just fine. He’s a lost cause, baby, and you’re better than that. Give him up, give him up, don’t waste your time. Oh, baby, give him up, he’s a lost cause!” </em></p><p>As Cassandra continued to sing, more passersby began to take notice. The joggers gave Cassandra and Leigh a thumb’s up, while others idly fished out loose change and tossed it into the open guitar case by the bench. Cassandra wanted to blush at their generosity. She’d never busked before, and she certainly hadn’t intended on doing so now. But at the same time, the attention was irresistible.</p><p>       <em> “If you try him once, he’ll want a second chance. But you’ve heard it before- the same old song and dance. What’s it gonna take to get him to stop calling?” </em> Cassandra grinned, tilting her head sideways to look at Leigh. <em> “You may be going down, but he’s the one who’s falling.” </em></p><p> The second time they went into the chorus, the same feeling of satisfaction that Cassandra had felt the night before when Sara and Leigh were singing with her rose up inside her. <em> Where was this person two years ago before George and Anthony came into my life? </em>Obviously the boys were invaluable members of Crucial Taunt, and Cassandra wouldn’t have traded them for the world. The band was every bit as much theirs as it was hers. But after playing with the same musicians for three years, changing the lineup was intoxicating. With Leigh by her side, Cassandra felt invigorated and revitalized. </p><p>        <em> Maybe Anthony really should be worried… </em></p><p>       “Here’s where the solo comes in,” Cassandra told Leigh after the conclusion of the second chorus. Because she didn’t have much practice with playing leads on guitar, she sang an impromptu solo instead, leaving Leigh stifling her giggles. They performed the chorus one more time and finished with a solid <em> thump </em>on the cajon. Slowly, they looked over at each other. It wasn’t until Cassandra saw the pure joy on Leigh’s face that she realized she was grinning as well. She wasn’t sure what made her prouder- the fact that Leigh had, despite her admitted weaknesses, co-written a kickass tune, or that they’d managed to get through the entire song their first time playing it, or that this loose acoustic version sounded just as good as the full band arrangement in Cassandra’s head.</p><p>“Yo!” Leigh stretched out her arm, and Cassandra met her with a palm-stinging high five. “That was hot!”</p><p> “You think?” Cassandra laughed, leaning back against the park bench. It was always hard to leave the headspace of a performance, and this time was no different. She felt so <em> giddy, </em>her mind whirling around. </p><p> “Hey, c’mon. Don’t be modest.” Leigh tapped Cassandra’s knee. “I want to hear you say it out loud: <em> I rock.” </em></p><p>“No!” Cassandra covered her face, trying not to crack up. “That’s just an ego trip.”</p><p> “Cassandraaaaa.” There was a teasing note in Leigh’s voice that Cassandra found unbelievably endearing. Another random <em> zap </em>of aimless admiration surged through her. “Let’s hear it.”</p><p>Cassandra sighed and tried to roll her eyes, but she couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off her face. “I rock.”</p><p>       Now Leigh was beginning to smirk. “Louder?”</p><p>       <em> “No.” </em></p><p>At last Leigh burst out laughing, resting her elbows on her knees and covering her eyes. “Sorry. I’m being too pushy.”</p><p>       “No… no, you’re fine.” Cassandra idly strummed the guitar and watched as a couple walking two mighty great Danes disappeared over a slope on the walking trail. She had to admit, even the smallest self-affirmation felt good. Lately she hadn’t been one for compliments, from herself or from others. But it meant a lot to hear that Leigh apparently thought Cassandra deserved more love.</p><p>       As the music faded from Cassandra’s head, her ears began to fill with the park’s various sounds- the scratch of stroller wheels on pavements, the flutter of wings as birds left their overhead perches, the distant burbling of a fountain. Her fingers tightened around George’s guitar, and her eyes slid halfway shut. Tentatively, almost unconsciously, she began to play a simple bassline, her hands moving on their own accord.</p><p>        “If only we could record it,” she said, speaking as softly as she was playing. Leigh looked over, with more interest than Cassandra felt her comment warranted. But when she spoke, it was clear the bassline was what had caught her attention. </p><p>       “What’s that?” she asked, nodding towards the guitar.</p><p>       “Just…” Having to focus on speaking made Cassandra stumble, but she returned to the bassline with ease. “Just a thing I just thought of.”</p><p>       “Hm.” Leigh made a <em> well that’s interesting </em> face, scratching the back of her scraggly head. “It sounds good.”</p><p>        “I don’t know what to do with it,” Cassandra blurted. Normally, she wouldn’t consider doing <em> anything </em>with a song so early in its conception. She’d record it on her tape player and save it for later, when she could work it out with the band. But her tape player had been destroyed, and though her band wasn’t around, there was another musician sitting right near her. </p><p>        Leigh closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, as if taking the song into her lungs. Before Cassandra could stop playing, Leigh’s thick, smooth alto delivered a series of hesitant notes. </p><p>       “<em>She’s moving out of sight and dropping on the floor. She’s like a satellite and leaves you wanting more. And when she moves away, you always want to… stay. She’s... on a tightrope wire and wants you to come play.” </em></p><p> Not wanting to ruin the moment, but sensing that the song needed a change, Cassandra transitioned from plucking one string at a time to strumming chords. The strings buzzed as her fingers tripped over themselves, but Leigh didn’t let it throw her off. Her voice rose, her eyes screwing shut. “<em>She is out of control! She is out of control! She is out of control… She is out of control!”  </em></p><p>       They went through the three-chord progression before Cassandra returned to the bassline, with a little more confidence. Leigh opened her eyes, but though her gaze was aimed at Cassandra, her eyes were unfocused. Her concentration  was palpable, her mouth slightly open and lips twitching as she tried and tossed out different variants in her mind.</p><p>       <em> “I’m in the night and I can see when you are there,” </em> she sang at last, once Cassandra had played the bassline all the way through. <em> “I’m like a satellite, I feel it in the air. And when I don’t know where to turn, I know it’s... you… I can’t help listening, I know what you’re gonna do.” </em></p><p> Again Cassandra began to strum, and again Leigh raised her voice. <em> “I am out of control!” </em> Finally she brought her hands to the cajon, pounding out a rhythm to match Cassandra’s. <em> “I am out of control! I am out of control! I am… out of control!” </em></p><p>To shake things up after the second chorus, Cassandra plucked a brief melodic line, a three-note arpeggio. Leigh responded to the sparse addition by easing back on the cajon.</p><p>       <em> “I am a satellite, she’s moving through the air,” </em> she sang. Quickly Cassandra switched back to the bass notes, though she chose to preserve the song’s space by only playing one at a time. <em> “She doesn’t know my name, but tells me when she’s there.” </em> Suddenly Leigh’s eyes flew open, her voice growing harsh and almost as raspy as her cousin’s. Responding to the change, Cassandra brought the full bassline back, a smile gracing her face. But Leigh was locked in a ferocious stare, her tightly-bridled rage struggling to mold to the confines of the lyrics. <em> “And when the lights come up, you know you can’t pretend… that every good thing doesn’t have a harder end.” </em></p><p> One last time they reprised the chorus, and one last time Leigh’s voice soared into the air. <em> “She is out of control!” </em> She began to pound harder on the cajon, her voice straining to reach more adventurous notes.  <em> “She is out of control!” </em> Cassandra leaned into the rhythm, her hair falling into her face with each movement. <em> “She is out of control! She… is out of control!” </em></p><p>Leigh ended the song with a scream that wouldn’t have sounded out of place at a metal show. From the sound of it, she’d obviously been practicing. Cassandra’s hands slowed down, before letting go of the guitar completely. For a while, she sat like a lump on the bench, letting the Earth’s orbit reclaim her. Then she looked over at Leigh, who looked right back, blowing out a shaky breath. Her expression was completely unguarded and vulnerable, much like it had been the night Cassandra first saw her perform “Emily.” </p><p>       “Wow,” she said.</p><p>       “Wow,” Cassandra agreed. She set the guitar aside and stood up. “And <em> you </em>said you couldn’t write a verse.”</p><p>       They sat there for another long moment, letting their exhilaration drain away. Gradually, Cassandra registered the sunlight warming her skin, the chatter of folks passing by and the firm earth beneath her feet. It was rare for her to feel so transported during a performance. Especially one without an audience. Usually it was the audience’s energy she fed off of, craving their attention as much as they craved hers. However, this time Leigh had become both audience and collaborator- and Cassandra had been just as eager to indulge her.</p><p>       Tacitly, they agreed that it was time to pack up. Leigh stood up and grabbed her cajon, while Cassandra collected the cash that had been tossed into the guitar case. She offered it to Leigh, who curled her lip. “Yech.”</p><p>       “What’s wrong?” Cassandra said. “Think of it like we just got paid for a gig.” </p><p>       “Pfft.” Leigh shook her head, but said nothing more. Cassandra rolled up the dollar bills and slipped them into her pocket, along with the change, before gesturing towards the walking trail. <em> I guess our work here is done. </em></p><p>        The minimal conversation that followed consisted mainly of commenting on the weather and cooing over passing dogs. If Cassandra had been with one of her bandmates, or maybe Wayne, she was sure they would have saturated the air with useless chatter. But the quiet suited her better. A magical moment had occurred mere minutes ago, and to discuss it would have cheapened it. She was glad that Leigh felt just as comfortable with silence as she did with noise. Not many people Cassandra knew felt the same way.</p><p>       They strolled through the park for another half-hour, before eventually winding up back at the sidewalk where the taxi had dropped them off. Several feet away, an older man stood by a garbage can, dressed in tattered clothes and looking as if he’d let go of all sense of hygiene and skincare a few years back. There was a cardboard sign near his feet, propped up against the trash can, but Cassandra didn’t need to read it to know what it said.</p><p>       “Hey, slow down for a sec.” Leigh touched Cassandra’s arm, bringing her up short. Since when had Leigh gotten so comfortable with touching her… and why didn’t she seem to mind? She watched as Leigh strolled up to the man and dug out the money they’d just earned busking, before offering it to him. His hearty word of thanks echoed through Cassandra’s ears.</p><p>       “Why’d you do that?” she asked when Leigh returned to her side, more curious than accusatory. “We could’ve used that for cab fare.”</p><p>       Leigh shrugged tightly. “I don’t know, it’s just… it’s funny how people will give you money when you’re not asking for it, and ignore you when you are.”</p><p>      “Hm.” Cassandra slid her forefinger across her lower lip. “They’re afraid of him, but not afraid of us.”</p><p>       Leigh broke into a wicked grin. “They <em> should </em>be afraid of us.”</p><p>       Together, they came to a stop at the end of the sidewalk and scanned the road for signs of traffic. Cassandra couldn’t help but feel a smidgen of disappointment that soon she’d be returning to her daily obligations. The park had provided a welcome diversion, one that Cassandra might not have known about had Leigh not asked her to come. Half the fun of touring was supposed to be the opportunity to explore the world, and yet Cassandra had been so down in the dumps the last time she was in Oakland that nothing about her surroundings had registered. Retracing Crucial Taunt’s steps as a band suddenly sounded like an enticing prospect, instead of a tedious slog. <em> I could get used to this. </em></p><p>“I’ll pay for the cab this time.” Cassandra pulled out her wallet. “Save you some money.”</p><p>       “It’ll be fine,” Leigh said, dismissively waving her hand. “We’ll make plenty of money tomorrow in Portland. They love us there.”</p><p>       The word <em> Portland </em>jolted through Cassandra. She felt as if she were a dog tied to a stake in the yard, yanked back each time she tried to lunge at a passing car. “What?”</p><p>        “We’re going to Portland tomorrow,” Leigh said. “Heading up a day early before the show. Um…” At last Cassandra’s state of shock registered on her radar. “Are you okay?”</p><p>       <em> Portland. </em>The single syllable rang in Cassandra’s ears. She tried not to grit her teeth as she forced out “I’m fine.” But inside, her stomach churned.</p><p>        <em> As long as we’re not playing the same venue… </em></p><p>“Did you play there before?” Leigh said, clearly not buying Cassandra’s statement. Her closeness and intent gaze were suddenly so off-putting that Cassandra took a step back. But she couldn’t escape from the words that nailed her down. “I’m sure it’s fine, they have a ton of shows a week--”</p><p>       “Where?” Cassandra blurted.</p><p>      “What?”</p><p>       “Where are we playing?”</p><p>       Worry creased Leigh’s forehead. “The Black Magic Lounge?”</p><p>       <em> Shit. </em> Cassandra briefly closed her eyes, trying to heave herself up from the threatening mire of memories. After what had happened the <em> last </em>time Crucial Taunt played the Black Magic Lounge, she would have been happy never to visit again. Yet aligning her band with Supermarine had thrown her right back into the den of vipers.</p><p>       She felt Leigh’s hand on her shoulder, and her words in her ear- “Hey, seriously, are you okay?”- but her presence did nothing to ease her mind. The sunshine of the day had fled.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Inspiration for <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qXwO-06sUCs"> Lost Cause" by Cassandra Wong and Leigh Radner</a></p><p>"Satellite" (Cassandra &amp; Leigh's working title) comes straight from the voice memos on my phone, complete with the bassline and improvised lyrics.</p><p>Next chapter: Cassandra receives a gift, and runs into some familiar faces.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Can't Get You Out of My Head</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>5/26/93: Crucial Taunt revisit Portland. The calm before a storm.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>       As Supermarine’s tour bus pulled into Portland, Cassandra was surprised to see that it wasn’t the nightmarish hellscape she’d been expecting. In fact, it didn’t seem to have changed since she’d left it. Rectangles and boxes reached for the sky, just like they did in every city Cassandra had ever visited. Nothing leapt out to mark this one as the starting point of her recent misfortune. Nevertheless, being back put an uneasy feeling in the pit of Cassandra’s stomach. Reminding herself that she didn’t have to set foot in the Black Magic Lounge for another day provided only slight comfort. </p><p>       The boys were excited to be back in Portland, although Cassandra wasn’t sure how much of it was an act. She knew neither Marc nor George would dare to mention what had happened the last time, and if she fixed Anthony with the right combination of aloofness and haughty squinting, he'd know to keep his mouth shut. But the worried side-glances each of them gave her as they exited the bus made it clear that the incident was still at the forefront of their minds. Cassandra almost would have preferred the matter to be dragged into the light, instead of having to put up with her bandmates’ furtiveness. Memories of the fight she’d broken up, of the bottles breaking and the thud of punches connecting, resounded across her inner ear.</p><p>       “You wanna go hit the outlets?” Leigh asked when she met Cassandra in the hotel lobby, after Supermarine had checked in. Though her bandmates were upbeat, she seemed distinctly on edge, as if Cassandra’s attitude had rubbed off on her. A guilty pang struck Cassandra’s heart- maybe she was better off not interacting with Leigh today. She shook her head. “I’ll be fine on my own.” Although just how she was going to kill twenty-four hours was a mystery. Tina had apparently booked the hotel a day in advance because spending a day in Portland was preferable to spending one in Oakland, but Cassandra would have gladly taken the California breeze over Oregon’s gloom.</p><p>       Nearby, Tamanna turned from the rack of brochures she’d been reading. “We’re going to the pool.” She gestured with the hand that wasn’t holding Sara’s. “Wanna come?”</p><p>       Cassandra adopted a rueful smile. “I don’t have a bathing suit…”</p><p>       “You don’t need one!” Sara said. </p><p>      “Yeah, c’mon.” Tamanna laughed. “It’s gotta beat sitting around the bus all day.”</p><p>      <em> She does have a point. </em>“Okay. I’d be happy to join you.” Cassandra eyed Leigh. “You’re still going to the outlets?”</p><p>       “Yeah.” Leigh seemed unconcerned. “Haley’s been talking about it all morning. See you later, Cassandra.” She adjusted her fanny pack around her waist and headed out of the lobby, while Tamanna took a step towards the hallway. “We’re gonna get changed and we’ll meet you there, okay?”</p><p>       “Okay.” Cassandra split in the opposite direction, following the posted signs that pointed the way to the indoor pool. During the day, the place was deserted, the hotel’s patrons apparently preferring to spend their time out and about. The water of the pool was clearer than Cassandra’s mind. She lounged back on a beach chaise, spreading the skirt of her navy blue dress across her knees so it wouldn’t wrinkle. Compared to her accommodations the last time Crucial Taunt had hit Portland, this really felt like living the high life. But with thoughts of said accommodations came thoughts of the person who’d owned them, whose presence had been the final straw that broke Wayne’s jealous back. Cassandra sighed, closing her eyes. Would this <em> moping </em>ever end? What could she do to replace the negative energy that surrounded Portland with positive connotations?</p><p>Tamanna and Sara came down eventually, Tamanna dressed in a ruffled lemon-print bikini and Sara in a black one-piece with a red stripe down the front. They happily took to the water, chasing each other from one end of the pool to the other and occasionally calling to Cassandra whenever her attention wandered. Cassandra appreciated the effort they were making to include her, but something in her winced to be around them. Here was a couple without any of the hangups that had plagued her relationship with Wayne. Why had theirs succeeded when hers failed? What could she have done differently?</p><p>       Mere minutes after Tamanna and Sara had joined Cassandra by the poolside to dry off, Cassandra spotted Leigh through the floor-to-ceiling windows, a shopping bag swinging from her hand. When she entered the room, she didn’t glance at her cousin or her cousin’s girlfriend, having eyes only for Cassandra. A soft tinge of pink colored Cassandra's cheeks, though she did her best to ignore it. </p><p>       “Hey, Cassie!” The nickname was tossed out so casually that Cassandra hardly noticed it. “What’s up?”</p><p>      Cassandra crooked her finger in the direction of Tamanna and Sara, who were sharing a towel. “Why don’t you ask them?” </p><p>      “Seriously, what are we, chopped liver?” Tamanna laughed.</p><p>       “Mmm, not quite chopped liver.” Leigh plopped down on the chaise beside Cassandra’s, unfazed. “More like… I dunno. A nice flank steak, or something.” She laid her bag down and leaned back.</p><p>       “How were the outlets?” Tamanna asked.</p><p>       “Fine.” Leigh sighed. “How was the pool?”</p><p>       “Fun.” Matching grins filled Tamanna and Sara’s faces. </p><p>      Cassandra spied the Radioshack logo on the bag that Leigh had set down. “What’d you get?”</p><p>     <em> “Oh, </em>uh…” Seemingly caught off-guard, Leigh stared down at the bag as if it were trapped in a bottomless pit. “Nothing special. Uh, just socks.” She forced a laugh. “You wouldn’t believe how many I lost on our last tour.”</p><p>       <em> You got socks from an electronics store?, </em>Cassandra wanted to say. But something told her not to pry. Maybe Leigh had overstepped the band’s budget and didn’t want her bandmates to know. </p><p>       Tamanna climbed to her feet and stretched her arms behind her back, groaning. “My stomach’s saying it’s time for lunch.”</p><p>       Sara nodded as she rose and picked up her towel. “What about that cafe across the street?”</p><p>      “Sounds good to me.” Cassandra got up from her chair. “Leigh, are you coming?”</p><p>      “Uh--” Leigh’s eyes darted from her bandmates to Cassandra. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something?”</p><p>      Cassandra glanced over at Tamanna and Sara, searching for a flicker of surprise in their faces. But they seemed to be paying more attention to each other than to Leigh. She looked back at Leigh, her intrigue stirring. <em> Bet she’s got an idea for a song. </em>“Sure. Ask away.”</p><p>       “Okay… um...” Again Leigh eyed Sara and Tamanna, as if waiting for them to receive a message to which they were oblivious. She cleared her throat. “Hey, Cassandra and I will meet you over there, okay?”</p><p>      “Got it.” Tamanna gave a thumb’s up. She and Sara departed the room arm in arm, towels draped over their shoulders and hair dripping. Only when the door clicked shut behind them did Leigh exhale, tension draining from her stiff shoulders.</p><p>       “I got you something,” she said, with no introduction. Reaching down, she picked up her shopping bag, before offering it to Cassandra.</p><p>        For half a second, Cassandra felt like pushing the bag away. Her head whirled. <em> Why would she… WHAT would she… </em> Sure, she felt pretty damn close to Leigh after meeting her a mere four days ago, but that didn’t mean she wanted Leigh to spend her hard-earned money on her. They didn't share <em>that </em>kind of friendship. Cassandra had no idea if they ever would. </p><p>       However, since Leigh had gone out of her way to get her something, Cassandra supposed she might as well see what it was. She forced down her shock and took the bag, mumbling a word of thanks. When she reached inside, her fingers connected with solid plastic. Pulling the object from the bag revealed it to be a new tape recorder. Her heart raced, and her mouth went dry.</p><p>       “Oh my god.” It seemed to be the only thing Cassandra could say. “Oh my<em> god.”</em></p><p>       “I just thought- you really seemed to miss yours, and I thought it would help us- help <em> you </em>write new songs…” Leigh spat her words out as if they’d gotten stuck in her throat. The tension visibly returned to her shoulders. “I can return it if you don’t like it, I mean--”</p><p>       Though Cassandra didn’t want it to, laughter swelled within her ribcage and proved impossible to hold back. “Of course I like it!” she gasped. “This is- this is <em> great! </em>Thank you so much!”</p><p>       “Oh!” Leigh said. She let out a pitiful, relieved laugh of her own, smoothing her hair back. “In that case- <em> you’re welcome!” </em></p><p>“Seriously!” Cassandra cradled the tape recorder with both hands, running her fingers across its glossy surface. Although she wasn’t sure if she approved of Leigh spending money on her, she had to admit she was touched. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had gone out of their way to do something like this. Unless she counted Wayne learning Cantonese for her sake.</p><p>       Leigh poked the shopping bag with her pinky finger. “There’s something else in there for you, too.”</p><p>       “Yeah?” Cassandra lay the tape recorder down on the chair from whence she’d risen, before reaching back into the bag. What she pulled out next was a cassette tape, bearing the faces of two men clad in fedoras and sunglasses.</p><p>       “The Blues Brothers?” Cassandra was familiar with them, or at least the crimes they’d committed if not the songs they’d performed, but she wasn’t a huge fan. Not as much as George, who’d insisted on making a pilgrimage to the famous orphanage where the band had gotten their start, when Crucial Taunt had gone to Chicago to shoot their failed music video.</p><p>       “I just saw it in the store, and I thought it was fitting,” Leigh said. “Y’know, ‘cause of the Chicago connection.”</p><p>       Cassandra shook her head. “Aurora, but you’re close.”</p><p>       “Oh.” Leigh flushed. “I’ve never been to either.”</p><p>        Cassandra shrugged, hoping she hadn’t embarrassed Leigh. “Aurora’s all right. It’s no Hong Kong, but it’s still good.” </p><p>       Leigh’s ears seemed to prick at the mention of Hong Kong. “If it’s okay to ask…”</p><p>      Cassandra returned the cassette to the bag, in order to give Leigh her full attention. “Yes?”</p><p>       “When did you come to America?”</p><p>       <em> Hmm. </em>Cassandra fingered her lower lip as she considered the question. Leigh was just full of surprises today. First she’d bestowed a gift upon Cassandra, and now she was asking after her background. Plenty of Americans had asked Cassandra the same, but they never dug deep with their questions, content as they were with the novelty of an Asian woman singing metal. Wayne was one of the few who had actually been interested in her culture, and he’d only used that as a way to score with her. But somehow Cassandra felt that wasn’t what Leigh was after.</p><p>       “I came over to live with my aunt and uncle when I was eighteen,” she said. “My parents wanted me to get a good education- the best education- and I wanted to start my music career. Either way, none of us wanted me to stay where I was.”</p><p>       Leigh said nothing, but she appeared to be absorbing Cassandra’s words. Her face softened, her eyes taking on a dreamy quality that appealed to Cassandra immensely. <em> She really cares about what I have to say.</em></p><p>       “When you came here… did you ever think this is how you’d end up?” Leigh murmured.</p><p>       Cassandra smiled. “Depends on if you think this is the end.” She tapped the tape Leigh had given her. “Thank you again for these gifts, Leigh. It means a lot.”</p><p>      “You’re welcome.” Leigh bashfully scratched the back of her neck. A small, enchanting smile blossomed on her face. “You wanna go over and meet Tamanna and Sara? Maybe we can record our song after.”</p><p>      “Sounds good!” Cassandra turned toward the door, but the mention of Tamanna and Sara brought her up short. She turned back to look at Leigh. </p><p>       “Why didn’t you want to give me the gifts when they were around?”</p><p>       “Um--” Leigh’s hand slithered down to her side. She huffed an unconvincing laugh. “Tamanna’s a total tech-head. She would’ve killed me if she knew I went to Radioshack without her.”</p><p>       That didn’t sound like the full story, but Cassandra laughed anyway, understanding that it wasn’t her business to pry. If Leigh didn’t want to explain herself, Cassandra had to respect that. She picked up the gifts and stuffed them into the shopping bag, ruminating. Hanging out with Tamanna and Sara hadn’t cheered her spirits, but Leigh’s presence sure had <em> Maybe I was wrong. </em>Maybe if Cassandra hung around Leigh as much as possible, the Portland incident would stop haunting her. </p><p>*</p><p>       “Night-night!” Anthony shouted as he stomped through the black curtains to the back of Supermarine’s tour bus. “Sleep tight! Don’t let the Benjamins bite!”</p><p>       “Help, there’s a monster under the bed!” Marc added, burrowing into his bunk bed. “It’s <em> Benjamin!” </em></p><p>Cassandra cracked a smile, but she didn’t feel like indulging in the boys’ favorite pastime of hating on the TV exec who had once tried to screw over their career. Her black nightgown swished as she rolled over and sat up. “I’ve got something for sweet dreams.”</p><p>       “No thanks, Cass,” Anthony said as he unzipped his suitcase. “I’m still coming down from whatever Marc put in that new bong of his.”</p><p>       “It’s not that.” Cassandra reached for her new tape recorder and held it up. “It’s a lullaby.”</p><p>       Anthony’s brow furrowed as he spied what Cassandra was holding. “Where’d you get that?”</p><p>       “L--” Cassandra swallowed her burgeoning response. She wasn’t sure how well Anthony would take the fact that Leigh had bought her a new tape recorder, even though she was 100% convinced that there was nothing scandalous about it. “Uh, I picked it up at a store today.” She pushed a long lock of black hair away from her face. “Do you want to hear what I’ve been working on?”</p><p>       Suspicion and interest warred on Anthony’s face. “Yeah… sure.” He went to the bathroom door and raised his hand. “George, get o--” The door flew open before he had the chance to knock.</p><p>       “Hey,” George said. He reached to do up the last button on his candy-striped pajamas. “What’d you want?”</p><p>       “Just listen.” Cassandra opened the machine to make sure that the tape inside was the correct one, before closing it and hitting Play. The sound of an acoustic guitar, still far from masterful but sounding better than it had during their first jam session, sailed through the air, accompanied by a rhythmic cajon and Cassandra’s honeyed vocals. Marc propped himself up on his elbows to listen, his eyes shutting and his dark wavy hair falling in his face. George sat down on the floor and folded his arms across his knees. But Anthony remained standing, unmoving and unmoved.</p><p>       When the song ended, silence swept the air. If Cassandra hadn’t been so convinced of the song’s power, she would have felt unnerved. She lay the tape recorder in her lap. “That was Leigh playing with me.” It was better to admit such a thing sooner rather than later. “She also helped with the lyrics.”</p><p>       “Wait, is this the song you were writing when we were in LA?” George asked.</p><p>       “Yeah.” Cassandra surveyed the unreadable faces surrounding her. “What d’you think?”</p><p>       “It <em> rocks,” </em> Marc abruptly declared, punching the air. Cassandra’s heart swelled. <em> One down, two to go. </em>She should have known Marc wouldn’t have any reservations.</p><p>       “I like it,” George said, though he sounded a tad befuddled. “But... does this mean you want us to go acoustic?”</p><p>       “No!” Cassandra laughed. “We were recording in the hotel room. We didn’t want any noise complaints.”</p><p>       George whistled a long, low note. “That was you playing?”</p><p>       “Yeah, Tamanna let me use one of her guitars.” Fortunately George hadn’t asked where his own acoustic had gone the day before. Cassandra doubted he’d even noticed she’d taken it. Figuring that <em> I like it </em> was as much a <em> yes </em>as anything, she turned her attention to Anthony. “Anthony, what did you think?”</p><p>       “Um.” Finally Anthony made a motion, running his fingers through his blond hair. “It was pretty cool. I think we should talk about it some more in the morning.”</p><p>        Cassandra’s face fell. <em> He didn’t like it. </em> She couldn’t tell if it was the song, or the fact that she’d collaborated with Leigh, but either way, Anthony’s dismissal stung. Part of her wanted to argue, but she knew it wasn’t the time. <em> If he wants to talk about it in the morning, fine. </em>At least she wouldn’t have to go to bed angry. </p><p>       “Okay, sure.” Cassandra flopped back in her bunk and placed the tape recorder on the floor beside her. </p><p>       George nodded as he rose to his feet. “It’s showtime tomorrow.”</p><p>       <em> Showtime. </em>As she rolled over to face the wall, Cassandra's nerves returned in full force. A day spent writing with Leigh had insulated her from such thoughts, but tomorrow she’d have to face her demons head on. For a moment, she almost wished she’d had it out with Anthony. Going to bed angry was one thing, but going to bed anxious was definitely worse.</p><p>*</p><p>       “<em>Eugh. </em>Who’s the stiff with you in this one?” A hand stretched into Cassandra’s field of vision, tapping a page of the photo album spread across her knees. Cassandra grabbed the hand and grinned over her shoulder at its owner.</p><p>       “That’s my old boyfriend.”</p><p>       Wayne made a face as if he’d just stepped in dog shit. “Jeez, doesn’t the guy know how to smile? He should look much happier. I mean, he’s got you on his arm.”</p><p>       “He wasn’t the smiling type.” Cassandra dryly flipped to the next spread of photos. “But he made Daddy happy.”</p><p>       “Your dad?” Wayne studied the photos of Cassandra’s parents with great interest. Cassandra nodded. “Lucky for you, I prefer the type of guys my father would hate.”</p><p>       “Seriously?” Wayne said, swelling with pride. Again Cassandra nodded, trying not to bust up laughing. </p><p>        “I believe you underestimate the Wayne Campbell charm. Me and your dad would be fast friends!”</p><p>       “Yeah, right,” Cassandra happily retorted. “Maybe if you get a haircut, or a change of clothes, or… a change of <em> everything, </em>come to think of it.” </p><p>        “Ouch!” Wayne exclaimed. “Right in the heart! Excuse me, ma’am, I believe that <em> this </em> is yours?” He mimed pulling an arrow from his chest- <em> “shwing!”- </em>and handed it over to Cassandra, who sucked in a breath and searched for anywhere to stare at that wasn’t Wayne’s face.</p><p>       “You know you’re just proving my point.”</p><p>       “Okay, fine.” Wayne crawled around on the bed, so that he was now facing Cassandra. His body rose up before her, back straight and chest bare. It was impossible for Cassandra to look away.</p><p>        “If your dad doesn’t want to be friends, why don’t I just fight him instead?”</p><p>       At last Cassandra burst into peals of laughter. “I’d like to see you try!”</p><p>       Wayne puffed out his chest and stuck his chin out, trying to project a macho image, but the corners of his mouth fought to turn into a smile. “You don’t think I could take your old man?”</p><p>       Carefully Cassandra shut her photo album. “And how are you going to do that?”</p><p>       “Same way I take you.” On that note, Wayne lunged at Cassandra, shoving her down onto the mattress. Cassandra let out a delighted, wordless cry as she twisted, fighting to keep Wayne from pinning her arms. She succeeded, wrapping hers around his neck- only to abruptly let go as Wayne’s hands moved to her ribcage, tickling her. Cassandra writhed, kicking her legs and laughing uncontrollably as Wayne continued his merciless attack.</p><p>       “Stop!” Tears streamed from Cassandra’s eyes. “Wayne--”</p><p>       “What?” Wayne said in his faux innocent voice, as if he had no idea what he was doing. Cassandra squealed and rolled away, flipping herself onto her stomach. Her back was nowhere near as ticklish as her front, and she hoped that would be an advantage. Instead, Wayne simply flopped over her, trapping her beneath his stocky frame.</p><p>       “One! Two! Ding ding ding!” Wayne cried. “Campbell is the <em> winner!” </em></p><p>       “Oh my god.” Cassandra struggled, but when she found she couldn’t push Wayne off her, she went limp, sinking into the mattress. “Oh my <em> god, </em> you are such a dick.”</p><p>       Wayne crawled off Cassandra and rocked backwards, while she draped herself against the pillows. “But I’m <em> your </em>dick.”</p><p>       Cassandra pushed a shaky hand through her hair, her face sore from grinning. “That doesn’t even make sense. You’re the one with the dick in this relationship.”</p><p>       A full blown smile came to Wayne’s face, mirroring Cassandra’s own. “Sure, and you know you love it.”</p><p>       At that, Cassandra could no longer wait. She grabbed him as he pushed her down again, more gently this time, running her fingers across his bare skin. A thousand taunts sprang into her head- <em> what is it, Campbell, surrendering already- </em> but all that passed her lips was a moan as Wayne’s hand snaked beneath her thin tank top. Then he began kissing down her neck, and words spilled forth, the same phrase over and over- <em> “IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou,” </em>gasped in Cantonese. Between kisses, Wayne returned the sentiment, and even with his shitty accent, his sincerity was clear. They were kissing and laughing and rolling around, and clothes were slowly coming off, and…     </p><p>        Cassandra awoke, tangled beneath the sheets of a bunk bed in the back of a tour bus. For a few seconds she wasn’t sure where she was, her mind still trapped in that lazy lost weekend with Wayne. Then, as her surroundings sunk in, she lay still, unsure whether to rage or bawl. A flicker of anger tried to kindle in her stomach, but crushing disappointment snuffed it out. Uncontrollable tears rose and rolled down her cheeks. Cassandra covered her mouth, trying not to make a sound, but she couldn’t stop her shoulders from shaking or her chest from growing heavy. </p><p>       She’d thought she was over him. She’d told everyone she was over him. What right did she have to feel so upset, anyway? She was the one who’d broken it off and booted him off the tour. He was the one who’d gone all mental on her. And yet here Cassandra was, weeping after dreaming of the happier times they’d shared, the times she’d take back if she didn’t know where it would lead.</p><p>       <em> Why can’t I get you out of my head? </em></p><p>       Plus, due to her dream, she was now incredibly horny. <em> Excellent. Just excellent. </em></p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>       As soon as Cassandra walked through the doors of the Black Magic Lounge, the double take she received from the venue’s owner was enough to confirm her worst fears. <em> They remember me. </em>And probably not fondly. Then again, she wasn’t surprised, seeing as it had been a little over a week since Crucial Taunt had last played Portland. So much had happened in between, Cassandra could hardly wrap her head around it.</p><p>       “Cassandra!” The owner of the venue, an energetic man named Jimmy, sprang from where he was seated at the bar and bounded over, shock written across his face. “What brings <em> you </em>here?” His wide-eyed gaze fell upon the musicians lined up behind Cassandra with instruments in hand. “Are you with Supermarine?”</p><p>       “Yes.” Cassandra fixed Jimmy with a polite smile. “It’s a long story.” She hoped the well-worn statement would suffice. Her skin burned at the thought of Jimmy taking pity on her.</p><p>       “We’re here,” Anthony announced as he brushed past Cassandra and Jimmy, carrying his snares.“Supermarine’s here. No further questions.”</p><p>       “I wish I’d known you were coming back.” Jimmy appeared distressed. “Anything to get more foot traffic.”</p><p>        “What, like we can’t sell out this place?” In the blink of an eye, Tamanna had appeared at Cassandra’s side. She set down her guitar case and leaned in to give Jimmy a hug. “It’s good to see you again.”</p><p>        “Oh, you’re already sold out,” Jimmy laughed. “I’m just saying, Crucial Taunt left everybody talking.”</p><p>       Cassandra stiffened. <em> That’s for sure.</em> As long as Jimmy didn’t mention <em> why… </em></p><p>“Let’s hope history repeats.” Tamanna threw Cassandra an open-mouthed wink over Jimmy’s shoulder, before releasing Jimmy and sauntering off to the stage. Reluctantly Cassandra turned her attention back to Jimmy. “I should go help them set up.”</p><p>       “Sure, sure.” Instead of moving aside, though, Jimmy drew closer, turning Cassandra away so that her back was to the stage. He exhaled deeply.</p><p>       “Can you keep a promise?”</p><p>       Confusion shot through Cassandra. “Yes?”</p><p>       Jimmy let go of Cassandra’s arm, forcing her to look him in the eye. Trepidation filled his brown gaze. “Don’t cause any trouble tonight, okay?”</p><p>       Unsteadiness swirled through Cassandra. She fought to recover her footing, imbuing her words with conviction. “What happened last time… it won’t happen again.”</p><p>       “Good.” Jimmy’s hands slid into his pockets. “I don’t want to embarrass you or anything. I know you’re a good kid. It’s just, we can’t have that kind of trouble here. If anything happens, take it off my property. We don’t want anyone-”</p><p>       <em> “Jimmy.” </em> The name was hissed in a biting tone. “I <em> promise. </em>It won’t happen again.”</p><p>       “Okay.” Finally Jimmy stepped back and gave Cassandra a smile. “Looking forward to hearing you again.”</p><p>        “Thanks.” Cassandra promptly turned tail and walked away, the entire exchange leaving her baffled. Try as she might to force it down, a mortified heat burned her cheeks. <em> I must have made a worse impression than I thought. </em> Not that she’d made a <em> good </em>impression in the first place.</p><p>       The only remedy Cassandra could think of was to slide straight into her work. <em> Just focus on the setup, on the music, and you’ll be fine. </em>She waited until all the boys were onstage before calling out to them, her hands clasped together. “Okay, guys! Get ready for a full soundcheck! I want to start as soon as we’re set up, so--”</p><p>       “Is this deja vu or what?” a voice behind Cassandra spoke up.</p><p>       Cassandra whirled, even as her insides froze. She knew that voice. How could she not? It was the one that still sounded in her head every time she dared to reflect on the Portland incident.</p><p>       “Peter!”</p><p>        Peter dipped his head. “Cassandra.” Contrary to the last time Cassandra had seen him, he seemed none the worse for wear. The same dark, brooding eyes, the same thick, chocolate-brown hair swept to one side, the same rugged five o’clock shadow and tight shirt that showed every muscle he was packing. The only difference was that his black eye wasn’t fresh. Cassandra swallowed hard as her gaze roamed his discolored flesh, fighting the gnawing guilt.</p><p>       She tried to speak coolly, betraying no sense of how his presence had agitated her. “I didn’t know you guys were on tonight’s bill.”</p><p>       “Yeah.” It seemed to Cassandra that Peter was choosing his words carefully, and she couldn’t blame him. “Um… I didn’t know you were still in Portland.”</p><p>       “We’re not…” God, if only Cassandra could have slipped away unnoticed just a minute prior. “We joined Supermarine’s tour a few days ago.”</p><p>       “Oh.” Peter bit the inside of his cheek, seemingly fighting the urge to wince. “Good for you.”</p><p>      “Thanks.” Cassandra stole a glance at the stage, itching to set foot upon it. <em> Anything to get away from Peter Morand. </em>“I-- I think we’re soundchecking first…”</p><p>       “Oh, okay.” Peter gestured broadly to the stage. “Go ahead, then.”</p><p>       <em> Thank god. </em>Cassandra started to move away, but just before she got to the stage, she halted. Maybe it wasn’t right for her to ask, considering who had given him that black eye… but she couldn’t just let it go.</p><p>       “Peter, how’s-- how’s your eye doing?”</p><p>        Peter’s face morphed into a sour expression that radiated a sense of <em> like YOU care. </em>He stomped off without a word. For the second time, Cassandra’s cheeks flushed.<em> I should have just left it alone.</em></p><p>       As soon as Cassandra got onstage, furtive murmurs rose from her gawking bandmates.</p><p>       “Who booked The Morand Band for this show?!”</p><p>       “Why weren’t we informed?”</p><p>       “Is Peter still pissed at us?”</p><p>       “Jeez, did you see his--”</p><p>       “All right,” Cassandra declared, her voice cutting through the mayhem like the bowsprit of a ship cutting through fog. “Take it from the top of the set. We’re starting with ‘Fugitive,’ right?”</p><p>       The boys grudgingly acquiesced, their chatter drying up. Guitars were tuned, amps were plugged in, and mics were tapped, until Crucial Taunt was ready to play a full song. However, the whole time, Cassandra stared blankly at the wall. Though her mouth shaped passionate lyrics, thoughts of Peter and Wayne and the way she’d gotten between them and pushed them apart saturated her mind. </p><p>       <em> Let’s hope history repeats, </em>Tamanna had said.</p><p>        <em> Yeah, but not THIS closely. </em></p><p>*</p><p>       The only thing that Cassandra was interested in seeing after performing was Leigh’s smiling face and her outstretched arms, waiting at the side of the stage. Even as Cassandra hugged Leigh, though, her heart sank lower and lower. Though the show had gone over well, Cassandra hadn’t been able to stop obsessively scanning the crowd for signs of Peter and his bandmates and any fans who might have attended Crucial Taunt’s show from a week ago. So hyper-aware had she been of the crowd in front of her, she’d gone through the motions when it came to the actual performance.</p><p>        “You rocked,” Leigh whispered, moments before fleeing behind the drums.  Even though Cassandra knew Leigh wasn’t looking at her, she nodded her thanks. She walked off stage and onto the floor, weaving her way through a sea of piercings, tattoos, and colored hair.</p><p>       At least the Morand Band had played first. Cassandra doubted she could sit through their set, and not just because she didn’t care for their music. Hiding in the green room under the guise of doing vocal warm ups had saved her from having to do so. As she glided through the crowd, a few concertgoers approached, complimenting the show she’d just put on and questioning where they could buy merch. One person expressed how happy they were that Crucial Taunt had returned to Portland so soon, much to Cassandra’s disbelief. <em> I guess they overlooked what happened after the show. </em>Or they hadn’t stuck around to see it.</p><p>Cassandra expected to see one of the boys sitting at the bar, but just her luck, she found Peter sitting there instead. At first she debated on whether to approach him. She’d be a fool not to take advantage of the Black Magic Lounge’s performers-drink-free policy, but it was in her best interest to avoid another awkward encounter. Then she shook herself. Why should she fear Peter? She didn’t even have to say a word to him if she didn’t want to. Resolved, Cassandra marched to the bar and called the bartender over.</p><p>       “I’d like a rail gin and tonic, please.” Cassandra stared pointedly ahead, refusing to succumb to the urge to check on Peter. Onstage, Sara took the microphone. “How is everyone?” A cheer rose up.</p><p>     The bartender nodded and shuffled away to mix the drink, leaving Cassandra on her own. She turned around in her seat and searched the room for her bandmates. Marc was probably at the merch table, if not in the thick of the audience with his eyes glued to stage left. Wherever he happened to be, George probably was too. Anthony… Cassandra couldn’t pinpoint him, so he was probably backstage, packing up equipment. She hoped he would come out, not only so he could learn to enjoy himself, but to give her some company.</p><p>       Right as Leigh clicked her drumsticks four times and Tamanna began the riff to “Goldilocks,” Cassandra’s gaze fell upon Peter. He stared back at her, his hooded eyes inscrutable. “What’re <em> you </em>looking at?”</p><p>       “Nothing,” Cassandra said loudly. “Just the band!”</p><p>        Peter ducked his head and glowered into the half-empty glass in front of him. Cassandra wasn’t sure, because Supermarine were playing at full volume, but it looked like he was grumbling something to himself. She sat frozen, unsure of how to react. She knew his grouchiness had nothing to do with her, but all the same, she couldn’t help feeling humiliated. It was her fault he’d gotten hurt, after all. If only she’d said something to Wayne… </p><p>       “I’m sorry.” Once the bartender brought Cassandra’s drink over, she grabbed it and stood up. “I’ll leave you alone.”</p><p>       Peter looked back at her, his blank face adopting an expression of incredulity. “Oh, okay. I guess that’s the <em> least </em>you can do.”</p><p>       “Peter…” Cassandra sighed. Why did it seem like the most immature people she knew, who just couldn’t let things go, were men? <em> More specifically, American men. </em>“What do you want? I said I was sorry. I gave you my share of the money from the show. You can be mad at me all you want, but I can’t help you anymore.”</p><p>       Peter laughed. “That money was wasted. I didn’t go to the doctor’s.”</p><p>       Cassandra’s eyes narrowed. “Then what <em> more </em>do you want?”</p><p>      “Nothing!” Peter spread out his hands. “If it were up to me, I’d just forget the whole thing. Okay? Just drop it, move on, never even talk about it. Brush it under the rug like my family at Thanksgiving.”</p><p>       Cassandra didn’t laugh. “That doesn’t sound like a healthy relationship.”</p><p>       “Well, I never<em> wanted </em>a relationship with you,” Peter said hotly. “Wish your boyfriend could’ve gotten the memo.”</p><p>        A cold feeling climbed into Cassandra’s throat. “He’s not my boyfriend anymore. I kicked him off the tour.”</p><p>       Peter’s only response was to crack a dry smile and raise a glass. “I’m glad one of you has some sense.”</p><p>        Cassandra’s chest burned. Without a word, she walked away. It was true, at least. Wayne was far from a sensible man. But she’d never thought of how poorly it reflected on her for putting up with that type of behavior. And she’d done nothing to prevent him from acting out. </p><p>       Instead of heading to the merch table, Cassandra halted in the middle of the floor to ogle Supermarine. A killer riff jangled through her ears, the start of the second song. Sara pulled the microphone from its stand and approached the foot of the stage. Her movements were miniscule, so her voice wouldn’t shake when she sang, but Cassandra could tell it was taking all of her strength not to dance.</p><p>
  <em>        “You say I’d be better off, if I could just learn to shut up. I say I’m sorry man, but don’t you think you’ve had enough? You say sure, I’ve had enough, I’ve had enough of you! Oh, but you're a fool! I know that you're a fool!” </em>
</p><p>Tamanna’s riff took over the song, while Haley’s bass throbbed at the pace of a racing pulse. Someone cried out wordlessly from the audience- Cassandra thought it might be Marc. She sipped her drink and began to bob her head.</p><p>       <em> “You say, what’s the matter, can’t you see that I’m just being nice? But there is clay between your ears, and in your veins there’s ice! And it won’t be long ‘til I decide it’s time to light the fuse, and blow this place sky high… burn it to the ground just like I do…” </em></p><p>Sara’s voice grew hushed as she returned to the center of the stage, fitting the microphone back onto its stand. “Oooh…” She began to sway idly as the song quieted, scrunching her eyes shut. Though she rarely acknowledged the audience, Cassandra still found herself captivated. Her stage demeanor was the polar opposite of Cassandra’s, and yet it was every bit as effective.  “Ooooh…” Leigh struck three eighth notes on the toms, while Tamanna strummed a slow power chord. As Sara rocked back, Leigh’s face appeared behind her, squinting out at the audience. Although Cassandra was sure she couldn’t see anyone due to the lights, it appeared that Leigh was looking straight at her. A shiver ran up her spine.</p><p>        <em> “Oh, burn it down just like I do!” </em>With that, the song was up and running again. Sara danced backwards, her jerky motions the center of attention, while Tamanna and Haley swayed from side to side, moving to the rhythm. Sara lunged at Tamanna, both of them shaking their heads to the triple eighth note beat. They pulled back, then lunged forward again, in sync. Even through the twisting, turning bodies in front of her, Cassandra could see the smiles on their faces. However, her gaze soon wandered in favor of Leigh. The drumbeat to this song was simple- four on the floor with a snare hit on every 2 and 4 and a fill connecting each verse and chorus- but Leigh played as if she were having the time of her life. She smiled, revealing her chipped tooth, and Cassandra smiled too. </p><p>       “Thank you!” Sara shouted as the song drew to a close. She triumphantly raised the microphone in the air, to the applause of her adoring fans. Hindered by her glass, Cassandra couldn’t join in, but she cheered as loudly as possible. Amazing how the influence of good music had completely washed away her muddled feelings.</p><p>        Cassandra’s gin and tonic was gone by the time Supermarine finished their set and came tumbling offstage. The electricity of their performance had charged the audience. Concertgoers came rushing to meet them at the side of the stage, cheering and offering hands to high five. They nearly swallowed up the diminutive Sara, before Tamanna lifted her, bridal-carry style. The cheering grew louder as Tamanna raced from the throng, Sara laughing and clutching at her neck.</p><p>        “Wow!” The instant Tamanna reached Cassandra’s side, she set Sara on her feet.. “They’ve never done <em> that </em>before!”</p><p>       “Great show!” Cassandra held her empty glass up as a salute, just as Leigh came tearing out of the crowd, sweat dripping from her face and hair disheveled. The laughter that poured out of her sounded remarkably like Sara’s. “I told you, Cassie, they love us here!”</p><p>        “No kidding!” Sara exclaimed. She was sagging, worn out from moving around onstage, and yet she still found the energy to nod and shake hands with a group of people passing her.</p><p>       Tamanna scanned the fracturing audience. “Where’s H--”</p><p>       “Hey!” Haley burst from the crowd as if Tamanna’s query had been a cue. Her arm was hooked around Marc’s, who carried her bass, but the instant her bandmates took notice, she let go of him. “Oh my god! That was our best show yet!”</p><p>       “Don’t jinx it!” Leigh insisted.</p><p>       Cassandra raised her eyebrows at Marc. “I see why I couldn’t find you at the merch table!”</p><p>      “Yeah,” Marc said, utterly unconcerned. “You need me?” He reached out towards Haley, as if to pull her back to him, but she moved away, out of his grasp.</p><p>       “I say we celebrate!” Haley performed a little excited hop, causing everyone’s lips to quirk. “Let’s get drunk!”</p><p>        Tamanna chuckled, reaching over to pat Haley’s back. “Just remember, if we get back to the hotel and I find you in the bathroom throwing up vodka and cranberry, that’s on you.”</p><p>       Haley wrinkled her nose at Tamanna and flounced away, Marc obediently trailing her. Leigh snorted as she watched them go. Behind their backs, she raised and cracked an invisible whip</p><p>       <em> “Leigh,” </em>Cassandra admonished. “At least it’s not you and George, huh?”</p><p>      “All right, duty calls,” Tamanna said. She stepped away. “I'll be at the merch table. Let us know when you’re leaving.”</p><p>       “Sure.” Leigh gave Tamanna a thumb’s up, which Tamanna and Sara took as their cue to leave. Now that Cassandra was alone with Leigh, she expected to feel awkward. But her gin and tonic had taken the edge off, turning the world blurry as if she were staring through the bottom of a glass.</p><p>       “Is something wrong?” Leigh asked, snapping Cassandra to attention. She shook her head vehemently. “I’m fine.” She was fine <em> now, </em>anyway. The lack of music was starting to bring her down, though. Now that Supermarine had stopped playing, Cassandra lacked a life preserver to keep her afloat.</p><p>       Leigh scratched the back of her neck. “You gonna hit the bar, or…?”</p><p>      “I…” Cassandra stole a glance at the bar to see if Peter was there. To her relief, she found that he had vacated. But the discomfort that had arisen during their last conversation swam through her. <em> It’s this place. This place is stifling. </em>Too many bad vibes, spurred by bad memories…</p><p>       “I think I should leave,” she blurted.</p><p>       Leigh’s forehead creased. “You sure? The night is young…”</p><p>       “I…” Cassandra swallowed a sigh. Where had George and Anthony gone? If only they were with her. “I don’t know, it’s just… this place…” She swallowed, not wanting to tell Leigh the full story, but wishing for her to understand. “We didn’t have a good time the last time we were here…”</p><p>       “Oh.” Taken aback, Leigh fidgeted with her hands. “It wasn’t Peter, was it?”</p><p>        <em> How did she know? </em>Had she seen their discussion at the bar from her vantage point onstage? Either way, Cassandra didn’t know how to answer Leigh’s question.</p><p>        “Don’t get me wrong, I would love to hang out. I just can’t stay <em> here.” </em></p><p>       “Okay,” Leigh said. “Is there anywhere you want to go?”</p><p>       “I’m not sure.” Cassandra bit the inside of her cheek. “I don’t know Portland...”</p><p>      Leigh’s eyes took on a brilliant glint. “Okay, wait here.” She headed for the bar, where Marc and Haley had settled in beside each other. Cassandra watched as they exchanged a few words, before Leigh returned to her side.</p><p>        “All right.” Leigh tugged at Cassandra’s arm, and though it should have felt odd, Cassandra hardly noticed her touch. “Let’s go. I’ll tell Tamanna and Sara to meet us there.”</p><p>       “What?” An unexpected laugh erupted from Cassandra. “Where are we going?”</p><p>       “You’ll see.” Leigh winked, and something about the gesture combined with her messy hair and chipped tooth lifted Cassandra’s spirits. “You’ll love The Burnout.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Inspiration for <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YwC2XyC0XTQ"> Actions Speak Louder</a> by Supermarine (also Sara's voice-claim)</p><p>Next chapter: Cassandra’s attempt at fighting off her demons leads to a Crucial Taunt song becoming shockingly literal. A heart-to-heart is had.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Don't You Want Somebody to Love?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Post-show funtimes... NOT.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter contains mild violence (a man physically fighting a woman) and some casual racism (microaggression) and sexism (depends on if you consider a certain word to be a slur or not). Just throwing that out there in case any readers aren't comfortable with that.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>       At first glance, The Burnout did not seem like the kind of place Cassandra would enjoy, contrary to Leigh’s assumption. The bar was built into the basement of a rundown hotel, far shabbier than the Best Western that Tina had booked for Supermarine. The air was thick with cigarette smoke, and the clientele were all noticeably older than the punks and headbangers who’d attended Supermarine’s show. Flannel shirts, navy jeans, and lace-up boots abounded. In her peach halter top, jean shorts, fishnet tights, and combat boots, Cassandra felt like a target had been pinned to her back. For that matter, she doubted the locals would take kindly to her bandmates’ long hair and open shirts, or everything about Leigh that screamed that she wasn’t straight. But there was a band onstage, pummeling her eardrums as she walked down the steps, and the tequila shot she’d had before she left the Black Magic Lounge was sitting soothingly in her stomach. At Leigh’s mystifying behest, she’d brought her bass, and the instrument was a solid, comforting weight. If Leigh trusted this place, Cassandra figured she could, too. </p><p>       Tamanna and George had opted to stay behind and man the merch table at the Black Magic Lounge, but Sara and Marc had been easily talked into accompanying Haley, Leigh, and Cassandra on their exploit. It had taken a bit more work to convince Anthony, but he seemed happy to have joined them, even though Cassandra caught him scoping out the Burnout’s exits and the location of the nearest phone. Together they trudged up to a table at the back of the room, as far from the cigarette fumes as possible. The band onstage was far from exemplary, the drummer playing a haphazard, basic beat and the guitarist more focused on noodling than the chord changes. Even though Cassandra didn’t recognize the song, she could tell that the singer was lightyears away from the correct pitch. She fastened her gaze to Leigh as Leigh seated herself.</p><p>       “This is the band you wanted us to hear?”</p><p>       “No!” Leigh said. “It’s an open jam. We’re gonna show these guys up.”</p><p>      <em> Aha! </em>Now it made sense why Leigh had told Cassandra to bring her bass along. She laid it under the table and sat down across from Leigh.</p><p>       “All <em> right,” </em>Marc cheered. He held out a hand to Haley. “You wanna dance?”</p><p>       “Sure!” Haley exclaimed, her piercing voice cutting through the guitarist’s fancy solo-work. She leapt up and took Marc’s hand. The two scampered off to the center of the room, forcing their bodies to move in sync with the drummer’s faltering rhythm.</p><p>       Anthony gave the guitarist onstage a disdainful once-over. “Bet Marc’s gonna grab that Strat out of his hands in three seconds.”</p><p>       Cassandra raised her eyebrows. “I don’t think Marc can judge. He’d be doing the same thing in our band if we let him.”</p><p>       “True.” Abruptly Anthony stood up, bumping the table. “I’m gonna grab us a round, what d’you want?”</p><p>       For the second time in two days, Anthony’s behavior impressed Cassandra. Although he was the most temperamental member of Crucial Taunt, his selfless actions proved time and again that Cassandra never wanted to kick him out of the band.</p><p>       “I’ll take a whiskey sour,” Leigh said. </p><p>        “Just some water,” Sara declared. “Cassandra?”</p><p>       <em> Hmmm. </em>It wasn’t common for Cassandra to have more than one drink in one night, and she didn’t care for the idea of paying after being treated to free drinks at the Black Magic Lounge. But... what the hell. After tonight’s show, a celebration was in order.  “I'll have a gin and tonic.” Her stomach rumbled, prompting her to add, “And some peanuts?”</p><p>       “You got it.” Anthony headed off for the bar. Through the smoke, Cassandra noticed several faces turning her way, including a pair of young men sitting close to the stage. She rested her elbows on the table, choosing to ignore them.</p><p>       Leigh leaned forward, mimicking Cassandra’s stance. “So what d’you think?”</p><p>       Cassandra shrugged. “I’m surprised you like this place.”</p><p>       Her verdict sent Sara and Leigh into a fit of giggles, Leigh covering her face. Through the protective shell of her hands, her words came out muffled. “I know what it <em> looks </em> like! But it’s <em> so </em>fun, seriously. I mean, it’s fun to shock everyone when they see how well we play.”</p><p>        “We played here on our first tour,” Sara explained. “It’s been around for years.”</p><p>       “And it’ll <em> stay </em> around for years.” Leigh nodded sagely. “Dive bars are the lifeblood of every big city, didn’t you know?”</p><p>       Cassandra cracked a smile. “I’m just glad we didn’t play here tonight. You guys deserve better.”</p><p>       “Why?” Leigh cocked her head, grinning wildly. Although Cassandra had admired her crinkly-eyed smile from day one, her heart skipped a beat at the flash of her chipped teeth in the bar’s dim lighting, as if she were becoming acquainted with Leigh all over again. “What do you think we deserve?”</p><p>       Suddenly feeling restless, Cassandra reached for a roll of utensils, only to clutch at empty air. <em> Right. </em>They hadn’t ordered any food yet.  “I’d pay to see you guys play anywhere.”</p><p>        “Aw! Cassie!” Leigh clutched at her heart, while Sara raised her hands in a <em> bring it in </em>gesture. </p><p>       “Flattery will get you <em> everywhere,” </em>she said.</p><p>“It’s not flattery,” Cassandra insisted. “It’s the truth.”</p><p>       Just then Anthony returned, carrying in one hand a tray with four glasses, and in the other, a bowl of peanuts. He set them down in the middle of the table and pulled out the chair beside Cassandra's. </p><p>       “Thank you, Anthony.” Cassandra rubbed his shoulder as he sat down, reaching for her glass at the same time. Alongside her gin and tonic, Leigh's whiskey sour, and Sara’s water, Anthony had gotten himself a Moscow Mule. The four of them emptied the tray and took sips while the band began to butcher the Rolling Stones’ “Satisfaction.”</p><p>       “I’m not getting <em> any </em>satisfaction from this,” Leigh declared, after a gulp from her glass. </p><p>        “Oh my god.” Cassandra bit her lip, trying to hide her laughter. Her group had already drawn stares from patrons. She didn’t need anyone asking what was so funny. </p><p>       “Rolling Stones? They’re certainly not the <em> rocking </em> Stones.” A mischievous glint manifested in Leigh’s eye. In an instant, she’d become a woman on a mission-  to break Cassandra as much as possible. “Imagine if they played that Beatles song, ‘I Feel Fine?’ I <em> wouldn’t </em>feel fine. Or, how about…”</p><p>        “‘Don’t Stop Believing?’” Sara suggested.</p><p>        “Right! I <em> would </em>stop believing!”</p><p>       Cassandra nearly choked on her gin and tonic. She grabbed her chest as Anthony patted her back. “You okay?”</p><p>       “Oh my <em> god.” </em>Cassandra fought for breath. “Leigh, stop!”</p><p>      “Sorry.” There was an amusing blend of genuine regret and <em> what, who me?, </em> in Leigh’s voice. “Guess I should cut this band some slack. They’re doing an <em> excellent </em>Shaggs cover.”</p><p>       <em> “Stop!” </em> Cassandra wheezed, even though she had no idea what a Shaggs cover was. She grabbed a handful of peanuts and flung it at Leigh. Now it was Leigh’s turn to bust up, guffawing with her hand over her mouth. Despite her attempt to stifle her laughter, a few heads turned toward their table. Anthony sent a steely glare their way.</p><p>       “What the fuck?” Leigh gasped. “Why’d you do <em> that?” </em></p><p><em>       “I don’t know!” </em>Cassandra reached across the table to grab Leigh’s arm, wiping her eyes with her other hand. Leigh leaned in, her eyes squeezing shut, and for a second- just a second- her forehead brushed against Cassandra’s. Though the contact was minimal, warmth spread through Cassandra.</p><p>       Then she realized the room was quiet, save for the ringing in her ears. The makeshift band had left the stage.</p><p>       “Come on.” Shaking her head fondly, Sara got up from her seat. She tugged at Leigh, pulling her backwards. “Let’s show these guys how we do it.”</p><p>       “Okay,” Leigh sputtered, still trying to catch her breath. She smiled weakly at Cassandra, as if to show that she’d surrendered in her quest. “You want to join us?”</p><p>       “Sure.” Cassandra grabbed her bass and got up, exhilaration whipping through her. Not for the first time, Leigh’s mere presence had uplifted her, erasing her trepidation. This would be <em> fun</em>.</p><p>       “Hey, man,” Leigh greeted the band departing from the stage. “You guys were great.” Cassandra had to try not to giggle at the disconnect between Leigh’s statement and her mockery from a minute prior. <em>Yeah, they were great... NOT</em>.  Leigh ascended the stage with Sara right behind her, and Cassandra brought up the rear. She went over to the nearest amp, while Leigh settled down behind the drums and Sara approached a microphone.</p><p>        “Is there a guitarist in the house?” Sara shielded her eyes as she stared out across the smoky room. Cassandra noticed that her voice was much less shaky than it was when she usually performed. She couldn’t chalk her confidence up to liquid courage, given that Sara hadn’t partaken, so she assumed that Sara simply couldn’t care less about the denizens of the Burnout. This meant nothing to her in comparison to the gig at the Black Magic Lounge. </p><p>        “A guitarist?” Sara repeated, more firmly this time. “We need a guitarist!”</p><p>       “You got one!” Marc strode proudly from out of the shadows, puffing out his chest. He climbed up onstage, searching for an instrument he could borrow.</p><p>       “Do you know ‘My Generation?’” Sara asked him.</p><p>       Marc raised one eyebrow. “Is the Pope Catholic?”</p><p>       “Hey, can we get this man a guitar?” Leigh yelled.</p><p>       The guitarist who’d previously been onstage came forward, holding his instrument aloft. As Cassandra crossed the stage to receive it, she saw that he and the drummer who’d just been playing had seated themselves at the table close to the stage, where the two men who’d stared at her were sitting. A secretive smile fell across her face. <em> We’ll give them something to stare at. </em>She presented the guitar to Marc, who bowed his head honorably. Slipping the strap over his neck felt as if she were knighting him. </p><p>       “All right.” Sara rubbed her hands together, wearing a giddy expression. She nodded to Leigh as soon as Cassandra had returned to stage right and Marc had adjusted the microphone in front of him. Leigh responded by raising her drumsticks high in the air. “ONE TWO THREE FOUR!” Immediately Marc launched into the main riff, as if he’d rehearsed it with the band. The tempo was much faster than Cassandra was used to, so she stepped back to focus on what Leigh was playing.</p><p>      <em>  “People try to put us down!” </em> Sara howled into the mic. </p><p>       <em> “Talking ‘bout my generation!” </em> Although Leigh was off-mic, her voice tore through the jagged guitar like a knife through butter. Cassandra nearly forgot to play, staring at Leigh in awe. <em> She’s got a pair of lungs on her. </em></p><p>      <em> “Just because we g-g-g-g-get around!” </em> Cassandra could only see Sara’s face in profile, but she had a feeling it was twisted up in a snarl. She darted up to share Sara’s mic. <em> “Talking ‘bout my generation!” </em></p><p>       <em> “I don’t need that fucking shit!” </em> Sara shouted. The last note was screamed in such a shrill tone that Cassandra almost thought the microphone had produced feedback. She stepped back, letting Sara's theatrics take over. Sara raised her hand in the air and stood up on her toes, bringing her whole weight down with her next line. <em> “Hope I die because of it!” </em></p><p>       <em> “Talking ‘bout my generation!” </em> Now Marc had joined in on the backing vocals. He and Sara made an unconventional pair- he the picture of utter relaxation, playing as if he were yawning, while Sara was all tension and jangling nerves, wound as tightly as a clock. She wrenched the microphone from its stand and began prowling the stage. <em> “My generation, baby! My generation, ba-by! My generation! My generation!” </em>Even with nothing at stake, she was clearly giving the performance her all, but between the darkness of the room and the blinding stage lights, Cassandra couldn’t tell if anyone was taking notice. </p><p>       At the start of the second verse, Sara moved aside and pointed to Leigh, behind the drums. Leigh immediately began to sing- <em> “Why don’t you all ffffade away!”  </em></p><p>       <em> “Talking ‘bout my generation!” </em>Cassandra shouted, before realizing that no one else was backing her up. She tried to play more softly, the better to hear Leigh, before realizing that Leigh didn’t need any amplification or trickery. Her eyes gleamed from the shadows, accentuating the rawness of her voice and the brutality of her drumming. </p><p>       <em> “Try to dig what we all say…” </em>Her vocal duties relieved, Sara stood in the center of the stage, her head tilted upwards and her arms flung back. She moved as if she were a puddle of water on the venue’s floor, leaping with every vibration from the speakers. The change didn’t seem to bother Marc, who was now fixated on Leigh, but otherwise unbothered. Cassandra moved closer to the drums, partly to ensure that she was locked into the rhythm, and partly to keep an eye on Leigh herself. </p><p>       “<em>I’m not trying to cause a big sensation!” </em> Leigh half-yelped the line, in a manner that Cassandra had never heard her use before. <em> “Talking ‘bout my generation!” </em></p><p><em>         “My generation!” </em> Now Sara was back at the microphone, singing along with Leigh. <em> “My generation, baby!” </em> At first Cassandra tried to join in, but then Sara pointed to her, signaling for her to play a solo on the fly. There was no time to worry over what to play, or dwell on the fact that Cassandra had never taken a bass solo before. She began to play a simple melodic arpeggio, while Sara made a <em> cut it out </em>gesture at Marc. He let go of the guitar, leaving drums and bass to dominate the song for eight bars. Leigh held down the fort, not attempting to get in the way of Cassandra’s solo, but something in her eyes made Cassandra want to show off. She slid her hand down the neck of the bass in a rapidly-ascending scale, and Leigh cried out in delight. In response, she threw out a quick fill that made Cassandra laugh with how perfectly it fit into the song. If it were up to her, she and Leigh would have played forever, but then Sara pointed to Marc, signaling that the solo was over. </p><p>       A fond smile touched Cassandra’s face as Marc dropped to one knee, the better to coax mind-blowing sounds from his instrument. <em> What a show-off. </em>Not to be outdone, Sara danced around the stage, circling Cassandra and playfully striking Leigh’s cymbal as she went by. She returned to Marc just as he finished on the eighth bar, tapping him on the shoulder. Obediently, Marc got up, and Sara raised the microphone to her lips again. </p><p>      <em> “People try to put us down!” </em></p><p><em>        “Talking ‘bout my generation!” </em> Cassandra and Leigh yelled. Their voices blended so well that it made Cassandra shiver.</p><p>       <em> “Just because we g-g-g-get around!” </em></p><p>
  <em>        “Talking ‘bout my generation!” </em>
</p><p><em>       “I don’t NEED that fucking shit!” </em> It was hard for Cassandra to believe that this brash version of Sara was the same woman who could hardly put two words together offstage. <em> “Hope I die because of it!” </em></p><p> They shot through the chorus one last time, racing towards the finish line. If she’d stopped to marvel- though she couldn’t, lest the song crash and burn- Cassandra would have reflected on how damn <em> tight </em>the band was. She supposed that spoke to the musical strengths of everyone onstage. Marc was obviously no slouch on guitar, but Sara’s riveting performance and Leigh’s infectiousness blew her away. In return, Cassandra was proud of herself for keeping up with them as a supporting bassist. She’d always considered herself as a vocalist first and foremost, so playing backup didn’t come naturally, but during this performance, she hadn’t even needed to think about it. </p><p>       “Thank you!” Leigh shouted as the song came to a raucous close, madly pointing at Sara with her drumsticks. “That’s Sara ‘Putting the Rad In’ Radner over there!”</p><p>       Sara raised her arms and bowed deeply, while scattered applause sounded throughout the bar. It was far from the electric reaction they’d received at the Black Magic Lounge, but Cassandra figured some were just too stupefied to clap.</p><p>       As she strode over to the amp to adjust her volume level, Marc appeared by her side. “Wanna do another one?”</p><p>      “Sure!” The only solution to dispelling the energy that had built up over the course of the last performance was to keep playing. After she’d fiddled with the amp’s switches to her satisfaction, Cassandra called Sara over. “Hey! What songs do you know?”</p><p>       “No!” Sara laughed, wiping sweat from her brow. “That’s it for me. You sing.”</p><p>      <em> Excellent. </em> Excitement stirred in Cassandra’s stomach. This was the first time in a while that she'd felt comfortable being the center of attention. <em> The first time since we were last in Portland, come to think of it. </em>Maybe it was the alcohol running through her bloodstream, or maybe the fact that she, like Sara, had nothing to prove to the clientele. The pressure to present a certain image and not screw up was off. As Sara left the stage, Cassandra went over to the drum set, beckoning Marc so that he, herself, and Leigh could confer together. </p><p>       “What do you guys want to play?”</p><p>       The first suggestion came from Marc’s mouth. “How about ‘Somebody to Love?’” </p><p>       “By Queen?” Leigh said.</p><p>       Cassandra shook her head. “The one from Woodstock!”</p><p>       “Oh!” Leigh picked up her sticks. “Uh… how’s it go…”</p><p>       A shout of “Hey!” from below the stage interrupted the discussion. Squinting, Cassandra could just barely out a man’s face gazing up at her. She recognized him as the drummer from the previous group. Behind him, his friends at the table up front had gotten out of their chairs.</p><p>       “I’d be happy to sit in if she doesn’t know it,” he said. </p><p>      “No, we’re good.” Cassandra turned back to Leigh. “It’s pretty straight through the whole song. <em> Da-da-da-da…” </em>She mimed hitting the drums on every beat. “You know, it’s called, uh…”</p><p>       “Four on the floor,” Marc supplied.</p><p>       Cassandra snapped her fingers. “Yeah! It’s four on the floor the whole song. Maybe get some cymbal action on the chorus.”</p><p>       “All right.” Without a sign of doubt, Leigh began to play. While “My Generation” had been too fast for Cassandra’s liking, she found this tempo to be too slow. But she didn’t mind, as it allowed her to stop and savor one of her favorite basslines. Before Marc had joined Crucial Taunt, she had learned this song with Anthony and George, and playing it always sent a wash of nostalgia through her. She came up to the microphone with a smile.</p><p>       “<em> When the truth is found to be lies… and all the joy within you dies…” </em> Cassandra tossed her hair, locking eyes with Marc at stage left. He stepped forward to double her vocal. <em> “Don’t you want somebody to love? Don’t you need somebody to love? Wouldn’t you love somebody to love? You better find somebody to love!” </em></p><p> The loud, grungy attack that Marc had used to bring the house down on “My Generation” had transitioned into clean, surf-esque arpeggios. Cassandra didn’t think she’d ever stop admiring his versatility. It was what had gotten him the job as Crucial Taunt’s lead guitarist in the first place. She closed her eyes, swinging her bass forward. <em> “When the garden flowers, baby, are dead… and your mind, your mind, is so full of red…” </em> The last vibrato-infused note lingered in the air, mere seconds before the chorus came around again. <em> “Don’t you want somebody to love? Don’t you need somebody to love? Wouldn’t you love somebody to love? You better find somebody to love! Love! Love!” </em></p><p>Though the drum part was simple, Leigh acquitted herself admirably. She hit the cymbal at the end of the chorus, to which Cassandra nodded approvingly. </p><p>       <em> “Your eyes, I say your eyes may look like his. Yeah, but in your head, baby, I’m afraid I don’t know where it is!” </em>As Cassandra played, she slowly lost awareness of her place onstage at a seedy underground rock club, pouring her heart out to a bunch of rough-edged patrons who probably weren’t even listening. This could have been the upscale Black Magic Lounge for all she knew. All she wanted was for the audience to love her, and if she received that love, she would be happy.</p><p>       When the song ended, a low whistle rose above the sounds of applause. Cassandra removed her bass, grinning. “Thank you!” She ran over to hug Marc, before turning to face Leigh, who’d gotten up from her drum stool. They met in the center of the stage, connecting in a high five. Before Cassandra could put her bass down, Leigh pulled her close into a hug. Though it lasted for only a few seconds, the strength of her arms around Cassandra’s torso was a bone-crushingly pleasant comfort. </p><p> The musicians filed offstage to Haley’s awaiting glee, though she only had eyes for Marc. “You were <em> awesome!” </em>She grabbed his hands and gave them a squeeze. Cassandra searched the room for Anthony and Sara, but they’d either gone to get more drinks, or she couldn’t see them through the shadows and the smoke. Who she did see, however, were the four men hovering around the table up front, and an older man striding her way across the floor. He looked to be a Burnout regular, gray whiskers adorning his chin and his bald head shining as he got closer to the stage’s lights.</p><p>       “Let me tell you something,” the man declared as he reached Cassandra. “I’m the owner of this club, and I’ve never had anyone here who sang the way you do.”</p><p>       Cassandra adopted the smooth-but-disinterested tone that she often reserved for unfamiliar people who came to see Crucial Taunt play. “Thanks. Is that a good thing?” </p><p>       The man burst out laughing. “Of course it is, honey!” He held out his hand. “I’m Eugene Dugan. Call me Gene.”</p><p>       “Cassandra Wong.” Cassandra accepted the handshake. She glanced over her shoulder, trying to figure out where the rest of her friends had scattered. Marc and Haley were heading to the bar, still talking excitedly, but Leigh was nowhere to be found. Cassandra was on the verge of worrying, until she spotted her standing by the steps to the stage, cornered by the four young men. From her casual stance, it was clear that Leigh didn’t consider herself to be in danger, but Cassandra still wanted to keep an eye on her. When Gene continued to speak, frustration shot through her. </p><p>       “Now where are you from?”</p><p>       “Aurora, Illinois,” Cassandra replied. “My band is on tour.”</p><p>      Gene’s eyes lit up at the mention of a band, but he didn’t pursue the topic. “And before that…?”</p><p>       “Before that, what?”</p><p>      Gene coughed. “Well, you obviously haven’t lived <em> here </em> your whole life.”</p><p>      <em> Oh. </em>Cassandra fought the urge to massage the bridge of her nose. “I grew up in Kowloon Bay, in Hong Kong.” A cheeky voice inside her told her to add, “Ever been there?”</p><p>       “No,” Gene chuckled, shaking his head. “So what brings you over to the States?”</p><p>       “Um…” Again Cassandra glanced at Leigh, and again a twinge went through her to see the young men surrounding her. She couldn’t stand here all night waiting for Leigh to finish her conversation. “Would you mind if I sat down? We had a show earlier tonight, and these boots are killing me.”</p><p>       “Go ahead!” Gene said. “I won’t stop you.” He moved aside to let Cassandra pass, but as she headed for the table in the back, he kept pace with her. Her aggravation spiked. Was this what it like to play for an older crowd? Were they always this persistent? Behind her, the voices of the men whom Leigh was chatting reverberated through her ears. “Wish we could’ve made the show! You sure you have to get back to the hotel? We’re actually on our way to a party right now…”</p><p>       The rare sight of a smile on Anthony’s face should have cheered Cassandra by the time she got to the table, but it didn't. “You sounded great, Cass.”</p><p>       “Thanks.” Cassandra deposited herself into the chair she’d initially left, giving her a decent vantage point to observe what was going on between Leigh and her conversation partners. The mention of a party filled her heart with concern, as did the way they were leaning over Leigh. Cassandra doubted very much that any of them would succeed in getting Leigh to come home with them, given that she had to hit the road the next day, but she couldn’t help feeling on edge. The Burnout didn’t seem like the kind of place to meet men who took no for an answer. </p><p>       “Hey there,” Gene said, addressing Anthony and Sara. “I’m Gene. I’m the owner of this place.”</p><p>       “This is my bandmate, Anthony,” Cassandra said. “Sara--” she gestured her way- “sings with the band we’re touring with.”</p><p>       “You have a very interesting sound, young lady,” Gene said to Sara. “That version of ‘My Generation’- that was the way Patti Smith sang it?”</p><p>       “Yes,” Sara whispered, her eyes on the table.</p><p>       Gene made a face. “Never could get into her.”</p><p>      “That’s fair,” Sara muttered, so quietly that Cassandra hardly heard it.</p><p>       “You said you had another show tonight?” Gene turned his attention back to Cassandra, though Cassandra was eager to divert it. “Yeah, at the Black Magic Lounge.” She snatched up what was left of her gin and tonic and took a deep gulp. If Gene didn’t read her vibes and wise up, she knew Anthony would probably leap in to save her. <em> Or maybe I’ll save myself. </em></p><p>      Gene whistled. “They’ve got a great setup over there! I don’t go too often, though.” </p><p>       “Yeah,” Cassandra said. “Me either.” Idly, she glanced over to the side of the stage again. What she saw was far from calming. Gone was Leigh’s casual stance, replaced by crossed arms and a quizzical squint. And one of the men- the tallest, heaviest of the bunch- was gesturing desperately, as if his request for her to join him had become a plea.</p><p>       Swallowing her fear, Cassandra tried to catch Anthony’s gaze- maybe she could signal to him to go check on Leigh. But Gene was talking again, distracting her. “You know, I don’t think I’ve heard anyone sing that song <em> that </em>well since Grace Slick.”</p><p>       “Yeah?” Cassandra drained her glass, before looking up to meet his eyes.</p><p>       “Yeah.” Gene smiled. “Your playing’s not bad. But if you ask me, you could use a little more confidence.”</p><p>       Cassandra’s heart stopped. “Excuse me?”</p><p>       “You don’t need to go out there dressed all sexy!” Gene’s voice had hushed to a conspiratorial murmur. <em> My god, he really thinks he’s making a difference. </em> “You have a great voice, honey. People hear that and they won’t <em> care </em>what you look like.”</p><p>       Sober Cassandra might have had an easier time brushing off the comment, but three-drinks-deep Cassandra began to simmer. “How <em> dare </em> you.” She stood up, balling up her fists. “I dress like this because <em> I </em> like it! Not because I need <em> confidence </em>or any--”</p><p>      An indignant yelp from the side of the stage broke off her mounting fury. “Fuckin’ bitch!” Confused, Cassandra followed the source of the accusation- and her heart stopped again. Leigh’s face was covered in a red, dripping mask. <em> Blood! Someone hurt her-- </em></p><p><em>        “HEY!” </em> Cassandra leapt up and shoved past Gene, marching towards the four hapless goons who had no idea what awaited them. They only had a split second to register the approach of an irate Cassandra Wong, before the flat of her hand connected with the nearest man’s neck. He staggered back, choking out “What the <em> fuck,” </em>while the other men scattered, minus the heavyset man who’d sat behind the drums earlier that night. Glaring, he rushed at Cassandra, locking her in a bear hug.</p><p>       “Don’t <em> touch </em>her!” The shout was Anthony’s as he raced across the room- Cassandra could hear his feet pounding on the floor. She caught a glimpse over the heavyset man’s shoulder of Anthony rushing at him- only to be violently tugged back. The man Cassandra had hit was still up and on his feet- and ready to fight back. She didn’t notice anything else before her body slammed into the bar. A groan escaped her, her arms flailing to break from the man’s grip. Her head fell back, and from her upside-down view she caught a glimpse of a shocked Marc and Haley, their mouths forming identical O’s..</p><p>       “Whoa,” Marc said, as if in a daze. “It’s a ballroom blitz…”</p><p>        The man’s hands slid down Cassandra’s body to her butt, as if he were trying to lift her up and set her on the barstool. Her arms now briefly freed, Cassandra reached up and slapped the man’s face. He recoiled, but didn’t let go of her, so Cassandra slapped him again, harder this time. He still didn’t let go, but his grip loosened, giving Cassandra the opportunity to free herself. She jabbed her elbow into his arm, finally breaking his hold, and dropped to the floor. Before he could grab her again, she crawled away. Out in the center of the room, Anthony and one of the other men were now wailing on each other- Cassandra recognized him as the guitarist who’d let Marc borrow his instrument. Unfortunately, Anthony seemed to be losing. Frantically Cassandra sprang up and rushed over, aiming a well-placed kick right at the base of the guitarist’s spine. The combined force of combat boots and a karate strike jolted him, but it wasn’t until Anthony decked him in the jaw that he sank to the floor, moaning. </p><p>       “Thanks,” Cassandra spat out, between gulps of air. But Anthony wasn’t looking at her. </p><p>        “Cass, look out--”</p><p>       However, it wasn’t Cassandra who needed to look out. The heavyset drummer who’d attacked her came barreling into Anthony, slamming his fist into his chest. Completely appalled, Cassandra felt her hands ball into fists. <em> He can’t hit a woman, but he can hit my friend? </em>Without thinking, she leapt on the man’s back, hooking her legs around him and tugging at his hair. He let go of Anthony, relieving Cassandra, but made no attempt to dislodge her. Instead he turned and ran, taking Cassandra on a whirlwind piggyback ride.</p><p>       Someone shouted from the table in the back- “Don’t let him get to the pool cues!” It sounded like Sara, although it could have been Leigh as well. Whoever it was, their fears were unfounded. It was the pool tables, not the cues, to which the man carried Cassandra. He threw himself down backwards, crushing Cassandra beneath his weight. The air left her lungs in a flash. </p><p>       “<em>Stop!” </em> she gasped, desperate for the fight to end. <em> “You broke my arm!” </em></p><p>Immediately the man froze. He bolted upright and spun around, distress filling his face. Cassandra groaned, clutching her arm for effect. It wasn’t too big a stretch- every part of her ached. She knew it was in her best interest to go ahead and call it quits, but at the same time… this man hadn’t learned his lesson yet.</p><p>       “Are you all right?” the man asked, sounding spooked. He held out his hand, but Cassandra didn’t take it. She pushed herself up from the pool table and onto the floor, before delivering a backwards kick to the man’s face. With his height and weight as an advantage, the man didn’t go down at all, but he immediately swore, grabbing his face. Blood leaked through the cracks between his fingers. “Jesus! What’d you do that for?”</p><p>       “<em>Now </em> I’m all right,” Cassandra breathed. She made her way back over to the main room, where Anthony was standing, gingerly feeling his hands. The man he’d fought was still sitting on the floor, panting, but the other two hurried off as soon as they saw Cassandra coming, presumably to check on their buddy at the pool tables. </p><p>      “Anthony.” Cassandra halted in front of him. “Are you okay?” </p><p>       Anthony stared at Cassandra the way a skeptic might stare at undeniable proof of alien life. “Your neck…”</p><p>       “What?” Cassandra’s hand flew to her neck. A sickening chill went through her as she touched wetness. Pulling her hand away revealed blood on her fingers. <em> When did that happen? </em>Her fingers went back to her neck, following the trail of blood all the way up to her ear. The instant she prodded it, pain swelled up, causing her to bite her tongue. It appeared that one of her pearl earrings had been ripped out in the tussle, severing her earlobe. </p><p>      His gaze still trained on her, Anthony spoke in a deadly calm manner, as if he were taming a wild animal. “Cass, I… I think you should go see a doctor…”</p><p>      “That’s <em> enough!” </em>An outraged roar broke the quiet as Gene walked up, his hands shaking with rage. “You folks get out before I call the cops!”</p><p>       “Yes, sir,” Anthony said. Cassandra tried to speak too, but she felt as if her tongue were made of lead. She couldn’t stop running her finger up and down the trail of blood from her earlobe to her collarbone.</p><p>       “Cassie!” Leigh emerged from behind Gene, her dark eyes wide. Upon seeing her, the last of Cassandra’s adrenaline drained away in a flash. She stood, shaken and staring into Leigh’s face. Her healthy, blood-free face. </p><p>       “Your face…” Cassandra murmured. </p><p>      Leigh grabbed Cassandra’s arms, which felt <em> so </em>good that Cassandra wanted to melt. “What?”</p><p>       “There was blood…” Cassandra reached out to stroke Leigh’s cheek, but pulled away at the last second. <em> What happened??  </em></p><p>       <em> “Ohhh, </em>no no no.” Quickly Leigh pulled Cassandra into an embrace, her hands rhythmically rubbing Cassandra’s back. “That jackass threw his Bloody Mary on me. I’m all right.”</p><p>       “Oh…” The word was hardly more than a whisper. Though Leigh continued to comfort Cassandra, Cassandra could hardly feel her touch. She stood like a stone, replaying the fight and the incident leading up to it in her head. How quickly she’d zeroed in on Leigh’s discomfort, and how she’d run over without bothering to check- without even stopping to think--</p><p>       An emotion deeper and grayer than shock rolled through Cassandra. <em> Shame on me. SHAME on me. </em></p><p>       She felt as if she were wearing cement shoes as she stumbled towards the bar’s exit, Leigh keeping her hand on her back all the while. Anthony walked with them, bringing up the rear like a self-appointed bodyguard. Apparently Sara, Marc, and Haley had already gotten the memo that they weren’t wanted at the Burnout any longer, because Cassandra found them in a tight huddle around the front door. Their faces turned her way, each painted in varying expressions of sympathy. Cassandra was sure her face would have turned bright red if she wasn’t already so miserable. For once, their reaction felt justified. This was <em> exactly </em> like what had happened the last time Crucial Taunt played Portland, only <em> she </em>was the one being as stupid as Wayne.</p><p>       Out in the parking lot, Haley wasted no time in staggering over to a potted plant and throwing up. Marc trotted over to hold her hair back, while Leigh stared in disbelief. “Jeez, she didn’t have that many, did she?”</p><p>       “Just one Long Island,” Marc replied. “And some shots, I guess. And that martini at Black Magic…”</p><p>       “Oh my god.” Leigh covered her eyes with her palm. “Haley, you <em> know </em>you can’t handle Long Islands.”</p><p>       “Cassandra?” The sound of her name tore Cassandra away from what was happening, but she couldn’t seem to focus on Anthony’s face. Finally Anthony cupped her cheeks, forcing her to look him the eye. “Look at me. You need to go to a doctor.”</p><p>      Cassandra shook her head. “Someone has to… has to go and… Tamanna and George said they’d meet us here…”</p><p>       “It’s fine,” Sara said from behind Cassandra. “I can stay here and wait for them.”</p><p>       Anthony let go of Cassandra to shoot Sara a disapproving look. “I’m not leaving you here on your own.”</p><p>      “We don’t <em> all </em>have to go,” Cassandra insisted. God, was she ever tired. “Just one…”</p><p>      Leigh raised her hand. “I volunteer.”</p><p>     “Okay, fine,” Anthony said. “Tina’s probably still at the club. Someone should go and let her know what happened.”</p><p>       “I’ll stay here with Haley,” Marc insisted. Anthony turned his glare onto him.</p><p>       “I think it’d be better if I stayed with her.”</p><p>       The words penetrated Marc’s perpetual calm, his eyebrows mushing together. “C’mon, man, do you really think I’d--”</p><p>       “I don’t know, and I don’t want to find out,” Anthony said loudly. He stepped back and surveyed the group. “So, Leigh takes Cassandra to the doctor’s, Sara stays here with me and Haley in case Tamanna and George show up, and Marc’s going back to Black Magic. That sound good to everyone?”</p><p>       “Thank you, Anthony,” Cassandra murmured, overwhelmed. <em> And people think that I’M the leader of our band. </em></p><p>“It’s okay,” Anthony assured her. “Just go and get that ear patched up, okay?”</p><p>       Cassandra nodded mutely. She hardly paid attention when Leigh sidled up to her and offered her arm. All she could feel was the same emotion that had come over her the last time she’d been in Portland- complete and utter humiliation. And this time, it was definitely, 100% her fault. She was the one who’d thrown the punches. She was the one who’d overreacted. She was the one who’d claimed to be more stable than Wayne, but here she was finishing up every battle that he’d started.</p><p>*</p><p>       “Sorry about tonight,” Cassandra mumbled as she and Leigh walked through the hotel’s entrance.</p><p>      “Hey, the best of friends always end up in the emergency room together,” Leigh said, nonplussed. “It’s a fact.” She hadn’t removed her arm from around Cassandra’s shoulders during the entire bus ride to the hotel. Ordinarily Cassandra would have found the gesture sweet, but she’d made such a fool of herself tonight, she couldn’t believe Leigh could stand to even talk to her. </p><p>       And yet talk to her Leigh had, during the hour they’d spent in the waiting room and the process of receiving sutures for Cassandra’s earlobe. She’d spoken about trivial things, such as which bands she knew that were really on fire lately, and which beaches in California provided the best surfing opportunities. Throughout her nonstop conversation, she hadn’t brought up what had happened at The Burnout even once. Yet somehow, Cassandra only felt worse. Avoiding the issue caused her feelings to fester, and no amount of distractions could soothe the burn.</p><p>       Instead of taking the bait and asking which friends with whom Leigh had gone to the emergency room (although she was pretty sure one was Haley), Cassandra tried to pull away from Leigh. “I’ll be fine resting on the bus. You don’t have to look after me.”</p><p>       Though Leigh let go of Cassandra, she shook her head. “You’ll feel a <em> lot </em>better in a real bed.”</p><p>       “What time is it, anyway?” Cassandra searched the walls for a clock. “Must be past midnight.”</p><p>       “Not yet, actually,” Leigh said. “We’ve still got thirty minutes.” She snorted. “Don’t worry about kicking anyone out. I’d rather not spend the night next to a drunk blanket-stealer.”</p><p>       “How do you know I won’t steal the blankets?” Cassandra tried to tease, but the words felt like clay in her mouth. She didn’t want to stretch Leigh’s hospitality to its limits. Especially when she hardly deserved her kindness in the first place.</p><p>       Instead of responding, Leigh went to the receptionist’s desk. “Hey.”</p><p>       “Good evening,” the receptionist answered. “What can I do for you?”</p><p>       Leigh hooked her thumb in Cassandra’s direction. “My friend’s not feeling well, so she might be staying in my room tonight.”</p><p>       “That’s fine,” the receptionist said. “Goodnight.”</p><p>       “Thanks.” Leigh walked back to Cassandra, her eyebrows raised, but Cassandra ignored the expression. She allowed Leigh to lead her down the hall, straight into the room that Tina had booked for Supermarine.</p><p>        The unlocked door swung open to reveal an empty room. Two beds were shoved against the right wall, separated by a pair of nightstands and illuminated by an overhead lamp above each one. An A/C unit below the window on the far wall, a microfridge, and a TV added what hardly passed as ambience. Both beds were freshly made, their pillows fluffed and sheets tucked in.</p><p>        “Come on,” Leigh said. She went to the bed closer to the window and patted its surface. “Lie down.”</p><p>       As much as Cassandra hated being babied, she had to agree that lying down sounded killer. She trudged over and plopped down on the bed, its bouncy surface nearly swallowing her. Now that she was seated, her feet began to scream, and the ringing in her ears grew to painful proportions. Mechanically she bent over to pull off her shoes and socks. <em> Thirty minutes to midnight. </em>How could so much have happened in such little time?</p><p>       “Guess everyone’s still on their way back,” Leigh murmured, half to herself. She went over to the window and closed the blinds, before sitting down on the A/C unit and tugging at her shoes. </p><p>       Cassandra nodded, though she was unsure whether that was a good thing. Walking in on Leigh’s bandmates would have meant three times the fuss that Leigh had made. But if they’d been there, then Leigh wouldn’t have felt the need to take Cassandra back to her room. Briefly she pondered how she felt about being in Leigh’s room, in general. Just yesterday they’d recorded a song here, but something was noticeably different tonight. Perhaps because Cassandra had no real reason to be here- and yet, she didn’t want to leave. </p><p>       Leigh paused in the effort of removing her other shoe. “Cassie, are you okay? Just being honest… you look like shit.” She tried to laugh, but the smile wouldn’t form on her face.</p><p>       “Gee, thanks.” Cassandra flopped backwards onto the bed, the room spinning around her. Now she remembered why she usually didn’t drink to excess. It only made her stomach churn and rubbed her emotions raw. But she couldn’t blame everything that had happened tonight on the alcohol. She’d never attacked anyone before when she was drunk. Hell, she hardly attacked anyone in general, unless asked to during her karate lessons, or unless they attacked her first. Therein lay the difference. She’d attacked those men tonight because they had attacked <em> Leigh… </em>not her.</p><p>       <em> What kind of a freak am I? </em></p><p>       “I don’t mean it like <em> that, </em>you’re- I mean, obviously you’re super pretty,” Leigh blurted. “It’s just, uh…” She rubbed her nose and deftly switched topics. “What happened with Peter at Black Magic, anyway? You looked like you were gonna hurl.”</p><p>        Closing her eyes, Cassandra let the memories swell unbidden back to her brain. “We had a bad encounter the last time we were here.” Even to Cassandra, her voice sounded tired, strained. Weak. At least, by some grace of God, Peter hadn’t shown up at The Burnout. The scorn Cassandra could picture him leveling might have destroyed her.</p><p>       “He played with you the last time you came here?” Leigh said. “Or… did he just come to that show?”</p><p>        “He played.” Cassandra felt her best option was to keep her responses as clipped and to the point as possible. Anything to avoid reflecting on her mistakes.</p><p>       “That’s wild,” Leigh murmured. “I didn’t know you guys knew each other.”</p><p>       “Yeah.” Cassandra opened her eyes. “I wish you <em> had </em> known.” However this night panned out, one thing was certain- Crucial Taunt needed to be informed on where they were going, and what support bands were playing which shows, <em> before </em>the actual day of the show.</p><p>       Leigh didn’t say anything as she removed her other shoe. She silently rubbed the sole of her foot, as Cassandra stared up at the ceiling. </p><p>       “Are you gonna tell me what happened the last time you were here?” she finally said.</p><p>       Inside, Cassandra clamped up, all her memories disappearing into an iron lockbox. By force of habit, she shook her head.</p><p>       “Cassie…” Something in Leigh’s voice suggested that she wasn’t going to give up easily. “I don’t want to force you or anything… I just thought… it might make you feel better, to get it off your chest.”</p><p>       “No,” Cassandra mumbled. She covered her eyes with her hands, massaging her weary eyelids. “It would make <em> you </em>feel worse.”</p><p>       “Why would I feel worse?” Leigh asked, puzzled.</p><p>       “Because…” <em> Dammit. </em>A heavy weight had descended on Cassandra’s chest, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep her emotions trapped within her ribcage. </p><p>       “Because I went mental,” she whispered.</p><p>       “What?”</p><p>       “I went mental.” Cassandra slid her hands down to her stomach, trying to ignore the sick feeling brewing within her. She imagined that her lower abdomen was full of choppy ocean waves. “On you, tonight. It wasn’t fair. I shouldn’t have…”</p><p>       “Wait- what do you mean?” Leigh sounded genuinely clueless. “You were fine tonight. You’ve never done anything to hurt me.”</p><p>       “But I hurt <em> him.” </em>Cassandra bit the inside of her cheek, swallowing past the heavy lump in her throat. “I hurt both of those guys, because I thought they hurt you. Just like…” She tried to turn the ensuing choking-up into a watery laugh. “Just like my boyfriend hurt Peter.”</p><p>        There was a pause, then Leigh said gently, “Your boyfriend?”</p><p>       “My ex-boyfriend.” Cassandra released a shaky breath. In the end, Leigh was right. It <em> did </em>feel better to talk about him. She’d spent too long trying to pretend that nothing had happened in Portland, that everything was all right and she was moving on. “He and his best friend went on tour with us. We hired them to sell merch. Everything was fine until… until we came here.”</p><p>       In retrospect, everything had <em> not </em> been fine. Even before Portland, there had been Boise, where Wayne had insisted on going <em> everywhere </em> with Cassandra, and Seattle, where he’d shot poison-dart glares at every man who’d come her way. No matter where they went, Cassandra overheard him and Garth making fun of the various men she spoke to, when they thought she wasn’t listening. Portland had simply been a culmination of Wayne’s worst traits, a foregone conclusion.</p><p>       “We were actually supposed to stay with Peter and his brother,” Cassandra explained. “We couldn’t afford to book any hotels. My ex, Wayne… he was the one who booked it, so it didn’t even come to mind…” She shrugged. “I guess they’d only talked on the phone. Anyway, once we arrived and Wayne saw what he looked like… He got jealous. Bad.”</p><p>       Leigh began to laugh softly, and the sound of it slightly eased Cassandra’s inner torment. “If you think Peter’s a catch…”</p><p>       “I guess he is,” Cassandra said. “I mean, he’s very attractive. But I didn’t- I didn’t see it that way. Why would I? He was our host, and I was with Wayne.” She declined to mention the vague glimpses she’d gotten of Wayne’s jealous streak, and how it had put her off. She’d honestly wanted to say something to him before Portland, something about how she wasn’t looking for a piece of man meat, or looking for anyone, really. She just wanted to be with someone who made her laugh, and Wayne fit that bill. But every night, he’d stand in the audience cheering like a fan, or he’d tell her in Cantonese, in front of everyone, that he couldn’t wait to get her alone, and in those moments he was the same old Wayne who couldn’t care less about other men coming up and stealing his Cassandra away.</p><p>       “I thought something was wrong that night, because he kept making fun of Peter,” she said. “But we talked about it after dinner, and… he was fine. He <em> said </em>he was fine.” Looking back, Cassandra supposed that the real final straw was when she turned down his advances in bed the night before the show. She’d been tired from the drive to Portland and wanted to rest up before having to perform the next day. There was nothing more to it than that. At the time, Wayne hadn’t seemed too put off. But by morning, his sour mood had gotten out of hand.</p><p>       “It wasn’t until the night of the show that things got <em> really </em>bad. I… I still don’t know what happened…” Cassandra squeezed her eyes shut, dredging every painful detail up to the forefront of her brain. She truly had no idea what Peter had said to set Wayne off. She doubted it had been anything more provocative than “I like the way your girlfriend plays that bass.” All the same, Wayne had taken it as a personal assault. “All I know is, I look over and he’s got his fists up, ready to fight. I think Peter tried to walk away… but Wayne’s friend tripped him. And then… that was that.”</p><p>       “That was <em> that?” </em>Leigh was at the edge of her unconventional seat. Cassandra hadn’t expected her to be so invested in the story, but the intensity of her expression spoke volumes.</p><p>       “What happened??”</p><p>      Cassandra sighed. “He gave Peter a <em> lovely </em> black eye. I had to get between them to get them to stop. Wayne’s not much of a fighter, and I thought Peter would hurt him. But then Wayne started going on about how he’d <em> seen </em> the way Peter looked at me, and how he just <em> knew </em> we were having an affair…” <em> Even though he’s the one who contacted Peter in the first place. </em> “So I just… I...” <em> No. I can’t tell her! </em></p><p>       “What’d you do?” Leigh’s voice had softened, as if aware that she was treading dangerous territory. </p><p>       “I…” This was the part Cassandra hated to dwell on, because it didn’t reflect well on her at all. However, for Leigh’s sake, she plunged ahead. “I dragged Wayne and Garth out of there, and… I just let them have it. I screamed at them and I told them to get off the tour. I don’t know where they ended up. I can only hope it was the airport.”</p><p>       She waited, but Leigh didn’t say a word for several seconds.</p><p>       Finally: “That’s it?”</p><p>       “What do you mean?”</p><p>       “So you kicked them off the tour.” Leigh sounded nonchalant. “Maybe they deserved it. You don’t need that kind of paranoia in your relationship.”</p><p>       “I…” It was true, and Cassandra knew it, but she still felt Leigh had failed to grasp the bigger picture. “I <em> hurt </em> them! Wayne was in love with me, and I…” The weight had returned to her chest. She tried to breathe deeply, but her words kept rushing out, growing jumbled and more heavily-accented. “All that time, he felt <em> threatened </em> by me. All that time, and I didn’t even know. I keep thinking…” Cassandra blinked rapidly, placing a hand on her forehead. “I keep thinking it was <em> my </em>fault. If I didn’t… show off so much, or love the attention, he would’ve…”</p><p>       “Hey.” Swiftly, Leigh got up from her seat and sat down on the bed next to Cassandra. She reached out and stroked Cassandra’s shoulder. “That’s <em> not </em> your fault, okay? I didn’t know your ex, but… I mean… if he’s <em> that </em> worried that you’re going to leave him, that’s <em> his </em> problem. If he’d rather take it out on some random dude instead of talking to you about it… that’s <em> his </em> problem. And shit, there’s nothing wrong with loving attention!” Now Leigh’s voice took on a chiding tone. “You just… You amaze me, Cassandra. When I see you moving across a stage, I’m not thinking, <em> oh my god, I suck compared to her. </em> I think, <em> oh my god, that’s exactly what I want to do someday. </em> I’m just- so in <em> awe </em> of the way you sing, the way you dress, the way you don’t give a <em> fuck </em>about... anything... “ Leigh spread her hands, shaking her head. “You’re a star, Cassie. I mean… it sounds really cheesy, but… I think you were born a star, and you’ll always be a star, so don’t try to dim your light for someone who doesn’t deserve it.”</p><p>       As much as Cassandra wanted to speak, she couldn’t physically force out a word. For the second time that day, tears flooded her eyes. She tried to ignore them, blinking hard and doing her best not to look at Leigh’s face. But Leigh didn’t budge, her grip growing firmer on Cassandra’s shoulder. As soon as her forefinger rubbed Cassandra’s collarbone, the lockbox inside Cassandra broke apart. She rolled onto her side and buried her face in her hands, tears soaking the mattress beneath her head.</p><p>       “Oh, shit.” Leigh sounded distressed, but she didn’t let go of Cassandra. “Sorry… I didn’t mean to make you cry…”</p><p>       Cassandra shook her head, hoping Leigh would understand that she was dismissing Leigh’s regret. She pushed herself up and wiped at her eyes, each breath hitching in her throat. Leigh came forward to gather her up in her arms. She began to rock Cassandra like a child as Cassandra rested her head on her shoulder. Her heartbeat stilled and her breathing slowed to match Leigh’s. The tenderness of the moment was both surprising and unsurprising, at once.  Cassandra had expected her pieces to come unglued eventually- but she never could have guessed that Leigh would be the one to pick them up. Or that anyone would.</p><p>       “No one’s ever said that to me before,” she whispered.</p><p>       “Oh.” Leigh let go of Cassandra, her hands falling awkwardly into her lap, as if she wasn’t sure where to put them. “Now I’m <em> really </em>sorry.”</p><p>       “Don’t be.” Cassandra wiped her face and offered Leigh a small smile. “I’m glad I heard it from you first.”</p><p>      Leigh grinned, but it was a closed-mouth grin that came across as strained. She crawled over to the head of the bed and began arranging the pillows. Cassandra joined her, propping herself against the headboard. She let her head fall back, her eyes rolling upwards. What a night this had been. From the hotel to the Black Magic Lounge to the Burnout and back to the hotel again, Cassandra could hardly have guessed the odyssey on which she'd embark. Somehow, this didn’t feel like the winding-down of a story, but the start of something new.</p><p>       Beside Cassandra, Leigh fixed up the pillows and sunk down, placing her hands over her belly. She let out a deep sigh, and Cassandra chuckled. “You can say <em> that </em>again.”</p><p>       Leigh laughed too, but fortunately didn’t try to ruin the moment with words. She reached for the TV remote on the nearby nightstand, while Cassandra stared at the reflection of herself and Leigh in the TV’s black screen.</p><p>       “The way I attacked those guys…” she said. “You’re not mad about that?”</p><p>       “Why <em> would </em>I be?” Leigh responded. She glanced up at Cassandra from where she was slouched. “I mean… I thought it was pretty badass.”</p><p>       “Oh.” Cassandra sucked in her cheeks, pursing her lips. Somehow, <em> badass </em> didn’t feel like the right descriptor. In the heat of the moment, she’d felt ugly and desperate- nothing like the skilled avenging angel Leigh made her out to be. A few fragmentary lyrics danced through her head- <em> she is out of control, I am out of control… </em></p><p>“It was actually kind of…” Leigh cut herself off and looked away, shaking her head. Cassandra looked down at her.</p><p>        “Kind of what?”</p><p>       “Nothing.”</p><p>      “Say it,” Cassandra insisted. “Kind of what?”</p><p>       “Never mind,” Leigh muttered. She propped herself up into a regular sitting position. “Where’d you learn those fight moves?”</p><p>        <em>Was she going to say it was sexy? </em>The notion was so silly that Cassandra put it out of her mind. If Leigh had ever wanted to come on to her, that ship had long since sailed. </p><p>       “I’ve been taking karate lessons since I was a little girl,” she said. </p><p>       “Black belt?”</p><p>      “Yeah.” Although Cassandra hadn’t kept it with it much since she’d started her band, it was always useful to keep those skills honed. “My dad was the one who got me started on it. "</p><p>       “Cool.” Leigh aimed the remote at the TV. Its lurid, unnatural light chased away the soft yellow light of the overhead lamps.</p><p>       “What was with you and those guys, anyway?” Cassandra asked, once they’d flipped through a few channels. </p><p>       “Huh?” Though Leigh looked at her, she didn’t pause in pressing the Next button.</p><p>      “I didn’t see what happened,” Cassandra said. “It looked like they wanted to chat you up. But one of them threw his drink on you?”</p><p>       “Oh.” Leigh snorted. “Those losers. They were trying to get me to go to this party across town. I guess they’d rather throw a drink than take no for an answer.”</p><p>       An unpleasant feeling welled inside Cassandra. It didn’t take her long to identify it as concern for Leigh’s well-being. “Has that ever happened at the Burnout?”</p><p>       “No.” Leigh turned her face to the TV, but Cassandra could see that her line of questioning had unsettled her. A haunted look appeared in her eye, though she didn’t let it stop her from channel-surfing. “They’re usually… I dunno. Not all of them are <em> nice, </em>but…”</p><p>       The word <em> but </em>hung in the air for a painfully long amount of time. Cassandra wasn’t sure what to say. She didn’t think she could verbally express the relief coursing through her, or handle the knowledge that if Leigh had been there on her own, she might not have walked out of the bar in one piece… or at all.</p><p>       Eventually Leigh settled on a rerun of NBC’s <em> Weekend Update</em>. She curled up against the pillows, offering nothing except the occasional laugh at Kevin Nealon’s jokes. The stillness that permeated the room could very well have been tense, but it was bliss to Cassandra. She inched closer to Leigh, so that their arms were nearly touching. The heat of her body filled Cassandra with strength.</p><p>      <em> Kiss her. </em></p><p><em>      What? </em>Cassandra mentally shook herself, emerging from her wandering mind like a whale coming to breach. She snuck a few glances at Leigh out of the corner of her eye. The lamplight playing off her face made her brown eyes sparkle, and as unruly as her short hair was, there was a certain charm to it. The longer she gazed at her, the more inviting her curved lips and the hollow of her neck became. What would it be like to press Cassandra’s own lips against Leigh’s, to repay her for the act of kindness she had already shown her?</p><p>      <em> No! </em>With a touch of dread, Cassandra shoved the thoughts away. What was wrong with her? She wasn’t in the habit of kissing women. Why would she want to ruin what she and Leigh already had?</p><p>       <em> Weekend Update </em>was nearing its end by the time Cassandra heard a key in the lock. She bolted upright, away from Leigh, even though there was no reason to be so eager. In walked Tamanna and Sara, lugging a stumbling Haley between them.</p><p>       “She’s all yours, Leigh.” Tamanna gently pushed Haley forward, causing her to let out a groan. She staggered, catching herself on the edge of the empty bed.</p><p>      “Oh, joy.” Leigh turned the TV’s volume down and got up, hurrying over to help her friend to the bathroom. The sudden mood shift left Cassandra mentally spinning. She looked over at Leigh, but Leigh had already shut the door behind herself and Haley, disappearing from view. </p><p>      Tamanna sat down on the second bed and reached up to undo her ponytail. “How are you feeling, Cassandra? Sara told me about what happened…”</p><p>      “I’m fine,” Cassandra replied. Somehow she hadn’t noticed her body’s aches until Tamanna had asked her about it. <em> That’s what you get for trying to pick a fight with someone who’s not your size. </em>Fortunately, she’d been sent home with a body of extra-strength ibuprofen, so her troubles would soon be over. “They stitched me up, see?” She pointed to her earlobe, making Tamanna wince.</p><p>       “Okay, Hales.” Leigh’s voice wafted from the bathroom. “Wake up and smell the freezing cold water.”</p><p>       Cassandra gestured towards the bathroom door. “Is she--”</p><p>       “Don’t ask,” Tamanna groaned. She shook her hair out, letting it fall in waves over her ears. “Thanks for accompanying her tonight. The Burnout’s her favorite place.”</p><p>        <em> Oh. Now </em> it made sense why they’d ended up at the Burnout, and it wasn’t because of the open jam. <em> Leigh sure is loyal to her friends. </em>Cassandra got to her feet, shrugging. “I did the best I could.” Which wasn’t much, really. Marc had been the one keeping an eye on Haley for most of the night, and he’d done a much better job than Anthony had given him credit for.</p><p>       As Cassandra hunted for her shoes- <em> great, I just took them off and now I have to put them back on- </em>she heard the faucet in the bathroom shut off. Fervently she hoped Leigh would come out of the bathroom with Haley on her arm, but from inside, she heard a soft moan. </p><p>       “Oh my <em> god,” </em> Leigh complained. “Get <em> up </em>, Hales. You can’t sit there on the toilet all night.”</p><p>       Tamanna slid off the bed and onto her feet. “Do you need any help?”</p><p>       “No!” Haley cried out blearily. “I’m <em> fine!” </em></p><p>“Um.” Cassandra hastily leaned over to lace up her boots. When she was done, she pointed to the door. “Maybe I should leave?”</p><p>       “Go ahead,” Tamanna said. “Do you want someone to go with you?”</p><p>      Cassandra shook her head. She knew exactly where the tour bus was parked, and even so, it wasn’t hard to miss. “I’ll be fine.”</p><p>       “Okay.” Tamanna came forward to give Cassandra a brief hug. “Goodnight, Cassandra.”</p><p>       “Night,” Sara added as Cassandra went to the door. “Don’t forget, Seattle tomorrow.”</p><p>      <em> Seattle. </em> Cassandra hoped this would be the last of the cities that she had already been to that summer. <em> How can I forget when you never told me? </em>First thing tomorrow morning, she was going to call a band meeting to discuss the touring schedule. Opening the door, she waved behind her back. “Goodnight, guys.” She tried to ignore the lack of a response from Leigh.</p><p>       As Cassandra made her way back to the hotel lobby, she felt she ought to have more on her plate to worry about. She ought to fear her bandmates’ reaction once she got back to the bus and had to explain everything that had happened that night. She ought to fret over the unknown tour schedule. But the memory of Leigh’s touch and her kind words pushed every thought to the wayside, even as it twisted her stomach up in knots. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Patti Smith's version of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2R5lcZFWEwg">My Generation</a></p><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a-C9pUGszsw">Somebody to Love</a> (I'd kill to hear Tia Carrere singing this)</p><p>In my headcanon SNL universe, the equivalent of SNL is Weekend Update, which is, as the name implies, JUST Weekend Update. It's a hybrid of actual news show and comedy spoof, where the news correspondents are mostly "real people," but others (like celebrity impressions) are not. </p><p>Next chapter: Cassandra goes shopping, and handles some heavy conversations.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. I Want An Answer Or Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>5/27/93: The tour hits Seattle. Cassandra deals with the consequences of the night before, and wrestles with her emotions.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>       When Cassandra woke up the next morning, the rolling of the bus beneath her signaled that she was on the move. She racked her brain, trying to recall what had happened the night before. Upon leaving Supermarine’s hotel room, she’d expected to run into her bandmates on the way back to the bus, but by the time she reached it, they were all in bed. The rustling of sheets as she passed down the aisle implied that not everyone was asleep, but Cassandra hadn’t bothered to speak, reluctant as she was to face them. In the bathroom, she’d changed into her nightgown, brushed her teeth, and washed her face, before sinking into her inviting bunk. And now she was awake, mildly hungover and deeply confused as to where the bus was going.</p><p>       “Hey.” The quiet voice startled Cassandra. She whipped her head around to see Leigh kneeling in the aisle, inches away from Cassandra’s face. At the sight of her, every memory of the night before came flooding back into Cassandra’s brain. She groaned, wanting to pull her pillow over her head.</p><p>       “Hey yourself.”</p><p>       “I--” Leigh rocked back and fumbled around for something on the floor, before holding a takeout container in front of Cassandra’s eyes. “I got you breakfast. We left early… your bandmates didn’t want to wake you.”</p><p>       <em> “Ugh.” </em>Cassandra sat up, but just barely, her head mere inches away from the top bunk. She ran her fingers through her hair. “How long have I been asleep?”</p><p>        “We hit the road half an hour ago,” Leigh said. Carefully she thrust the takeout container forward. “Here, eat this. You’ll feel better.”</p><p>       “Thanks.” Cassandra wasn’t sure how Leigh knew that she wasn’t feeling well, but she wasn’t going to deny her. She took the container and started to open it, but something compelled her to set it aside. There were more important things to attend to before enjoying breakfast, such as getting dressed and making herself look presentable… as well as figuring out just how comfortable she was with Leigh sitting here, watching her every move.</p><p>       In the morning’s light, Leigh looked the same as she ever did- a practical, casually-dressed young woman whose unruly hairdo, all-but-vanished nail polish, and chipped front tooth showcased her fun-loving streak. Those who stuck to society's standards might never call her stunningly gorgeous, but her eyes were ones that Cassandra could get lost in, and her smile took Cassandra’s breath away. Something stirred in Cassandra, a vague remnant of the desire to kiss Leigh that had bothered her the night before. Now more than ever, she shied away from it. <em> What's going on?  </em>Surely she could appreciate a woman’s beauty without wanting to turn it into a sensual thing? And she’d only known Leigh for a few days. These urges made no sense. So why was she still experiencing them?</p><p>       “Leigh,” Cassandra said quietly.</p><p>       Leigh tilted her head back, scratching her scalp. “Yeah?”</p><p>       Slowly Cassandra sifted through the memories of last night’s events, trying to figure out if she’d already said what she thought she needed to say. <em> Well, it never hurts to say it again. </em>She folded her legs and exhaled slowly, clasping her hands in her lap.</p><p>       “Thank you, Leigh,” she said. “Last night was… hard. It means a lot to me that you… that you stayed to listen to my problems.”</p><p>       Leigh’s face softened, her eyes wide. “Of course!” She reached out without warning and took Cassandra’s hand. Her rich, dark eyes bore into Cassandra. “Thank you for trusting me enough to open up. If you need to talk about anything, I’ll always be here.”</p><p>       Cassandra tried to speak, but her mind was hung up on the brazenness with which Leigh had taken her hand. She nodded instead, squeezing Leigh’s hand in return. Her palms were rough with calluses, but her grip was warm and comfortable.</p><p>       When Leigh withdrew her hand, Cassandra cleared her throat. “Could you, um… could you give me some privacy? I need to get dressed…”</p><p>       “Oh!” Hastily Leigh got to her feet, brushing down her jeans. “You got it, Cassie. I’ll make sure the boys stay out.” She made her way down the aisle, back beyond the black curtains. Again Cassandra exhaled, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her head on them.</p><p>       <em> The boys. Cassie. </em> So easily Leigh had adopted these monikers, as if she’d been welcomed into Crucial Taunt as an honorary family member. It seemed so intimate for someone who’d only acquainted herself with the band a few days ago. <em> Perhaps too intimate. </em>Though Cassandra really did appreciate the care that Leigh had shown her the night before, she couldn’t help but feel that things were moving too quickly. Their friendship was turning into something that Cassandra couldn’t name, taking her to deeper waters, and if she didn’t swim back to the shore in time, one of them would drown. Who it would be, however, she couldn’t say.</p><p>       Cassandra pushed herself up from the bunk and stumbled to the restroom, grabbing her suitcase on the way.  It felt like ages since she’d had a shower, and the miniscule room had nothing of the sort to offer her. She dressed as if still in a dream state, pulling a black-and-white splotched shirt over her head and fastening her rhinestone belt through the loops of a white pair of pants. The mirror reflected her reddish eyes and her frizzy hair. <em> Great. </em>Fortunately, water tamed one problem, and a brush and a black headband tamed the other. After using the toilet and brushing her teeth, Cassandra stepped out of the restroom on shaky legs, clutching at the bunks as she made her way down the rumbling aisle. </p><p>       At first, no one noticed when Cassandra entered the bright, sunlit bus. Tina was sitting at the front with the bus driver, and George and Marc were a few seats down, across the aisle from each other. Anthony sat on his own in the middle, while Tamanna and Sara sat together on the left side, nearby him. Quickly Cassandra searched for Leigh, spotting her in the seat closest to where she’d emerged, with Haley draped over her shoulder.  She took a hesitant step forward, wanting to join Leigh but unsure if she should.</p><p>       “There she is!” Anthony called suddenly, snapping everyone to attention. He pointed down the aisle at Cassandra. “There’s Sleeping Beauty!”</p><p>       All eyes turned backward to appraise Cassandra’s appearance. To Cassandra’s surprise, there was no trace of pity or derision in her bandmates’ stares. Along with Supermarine, they smiled adoringly, as if Cassandra were a queen greeting her royal subjects. The warm reception encouraged Cassandra to travel down the aisle, passing Leigh, until she was standing right behind Anthony.</p><p>       “Hi.”</p><p>       “Hi,” Anthony said, a touch of amusement in his voice. <em> At least it’s that and not disgust. </em>“Rough night, huh?”</p><p>       Before Cassandra could answer, George scrambled up from his seat, with Marc hot on his heels. “Did you get breakfast?” He searched Cassandra’s face. “It was Leigh’s idea… I helped her pick out what you would like.”</p><p>       <em> Leigh’s idea. </em>Again came the sense of things moving too quickly. Cassandra nodded. “I did. Thanks, George.” Although it appeared she’d forgotten it in the back. She sat down, leaving Marc and George to settle down in the seat behind her.</p><p>       “We’re on our way to Seattle,” George stated, answering Cassandra’s first question before she even spoke it. That only left her second question to be voiced. “Why didn’t anyone wake me up?”</p><p>       “You were out cold,” Anthony said. “Figured you could use the sleep.” </p><p>       <em> You got that right. </em> Cassandra surveyed the faces around her. Anthony, Tamanna, and Sara were in front of her, and George and Marc were directly behind her. The only wild cards were Leigh and Haley, sitting in the far back, but after the night Haley had had, Cassandra understood if she didn’t want to move. <em> Guess this’ll have to do for a band meeting. </em></p><p>       “We need to talk,” she said.</p><p>       “Cassandra’s right.” Several heads snapped up to see Tina strolling down the aisle, balancing herself on the empty seats. Though her voice was gentle, something about her erect stance and the shrewd look in her eye commanded attention. “We do need to talk.” </p><p>       “Good morning, headmistress,” Leigh exclaimed, saluting. Cassandra tried not to choke on air.</p><p>       “Morning, gang.” Tina flicked a strand of grayish-brown hair out of her face. “I’m glad you’re all still <em> here </em>this morning, after what I heard happened at that bar.”</p><p>       Cassandra went still- <em> are we in trouble?- </em>but her bandmates seemed unruffled, save for the hesitant Anthony. In the back, Haley made a show of checking her nails. However, Leigh, Tamanna and Sara hung on Tina’s every word. </p><p>       “Last night,” Tina began, “it wasn’t until Marc showed up at Black Magic, on his own, that I had any idea where you all had gone. I didn’t even know you’d left the building until Jimmy came up to me asking if we could remove our equipment from the stage. George was the only one still around at that point, and he had no idea where anyone was.” Tina swallowed. “I don’t want to reprimand you, because we’re all adults here and you’re fully capable of making your own decisions, but I’d prefer for you to keep me in the know. I want us all to have a good time on the road, but good times come with bad consequences if you’re not careful. In the future, please let me know if you’re planning on going to another bar after the show.”</p><p>       “What’s the problem?” Haley spoke up, voice dripping with disinterest. “We always go to The Burnout when we’re in Portland.”</p><p>       “Sure,” Leigh bit back. “After last night, I don’t think we’re going <em> back.” </em></p><p> “Yeah, ‘cause <em> you </em>started a fight.” Haley struggled to sit up in her seat.</p><p>       “Wait- I heard it was Cassandra who started the fight!” George said. “Didn’t you say--”</p><p>      “Who started <em>what</em> is not the point,” Tina cut in. “I know the four of you like going to The Burnout, but since no one mentioned it to me last night, I had no way of knowing where you had gone. You could have been there, or at the hotel, or at some party with the Morand Band, and I’d never have known. All I'm asking is for you to keep your safety in mind, and keep me informed on your whereabouts.”</p><p>       “Sorry, Tina,” Leigh mumbled. “It was my idea.”</p><p>       Tina pushed her glasses up to peer at Leigh. “There’s nothing to do about it now. I’m just relieved that we’re all okay.” She studiedthe faces turned towards her. “Does anyone need anything while I’m up?”</p><p>        Cassandra shook her head, while the others chorused, “No.” Satisfied, Tina turned around and trudged back to her seat. Her words, however, hung chillingly over the bus. <em> I’m just relieved that we’re all okay… </em>She’d sensed the danger that Cassandra had, the possibility that last night’s fight could have turned ugly. And yet Haley hadn’t grasped that, even though she’d been stumbling around on her feet, a perfect target had she not spent the whole night in Marc’s arms. Was Leigh just as clueless? Cassandra hoped that the smidgen of regret she’d just shown would keep her from frequenting places where she wasn’t wanted in the future.</p><p>       As soon as Tina had sat down again, George piped up. “I heard you kicked ass last night, Cassandra.”</p><p>       Cassandra shrugged idly. “It was not my finest moment.” Though she didn’t feel as ashamed as she’d been the night before, knowing that Leigh owed her safety to the ass-kicking Cassandra had doled out. She wasn’t sure how much the situation would have escalated without her, but she could only assume the worst.</p><p>       “Seriously?” George laughed. “You wailing on a big guy… Man, I’d <em> pay </em>to see that.”</p><p>       “Only if it’s a phony wrestling match,” Leigh stated. “That dude should’ve picked on someone his own size.”</p><p>      “Oh, please,” Haley groaned. “That’s not what you said last- <em> ow!” </em> She clutched her ribs as Leigh swiftly elbowed her, a <em> drop it or else </em> expression on her face. Cassandra was momentarily bewildered. What <em> had </em>Leigh said last night? Had she been talking about Cassandra after Cassandra left the hotel room?</p><p>       For the first time that morning, Tamanna spoke up. “In the spirit of what Tina was just telling us, I suggest we stay where we are after each show. I mean, the drinks are free anyway.” </p><p>       “Or we find a lesbian bar,” Leigh suggested.</p><p>      To hear the word <em> lesbian </em>spoken so plainly was a jolt to Cassandra’s system, stronger than any coffee she could have brewed. It was clear that Tamanna and Sara were in a relationship, and Leigh had mentioned loving women several times, but Cassandra had never thought to label them, just like she’d never specifically thought of herself as a heterosexual. But that was only because she’d never dated a woman before. If she did so… what would that make her? </p><p>       Anthony folded his arms across his chest. “Well, I guess that leaves us out.”</p><p>      Cassandra couldn’t help but let out an incredulous laugh. “It’s not like you’ve ever tried to get laid on this tour!”</p><p>        The boys cracked up at that, while Anthony groaned. “Just saying.”</p><p>      “You don’t have to feel <em> left out,” </em> Tamanna pointed out. Her voice was cordial- not leaping to hostility as Cassandra would have expected, but allowing Anthony leeway. “I just don’t want any of my friends to be harassed while trying to have a good time. Feel free to go to whatever bar <em> you’d </em>like.”</p><p>       George frowned. “Wait, but why would <em> you </em>guys go to a…”</p><p>      He trailed off, taking in the fallen faces surrounding him. Tamanna looked as if she couldn't decide whether or not George was joking. . Cassandra, however, wasn’t surprised. <em> You could have sex with your partner right in front of him, and he’d still need someone to tell him outright that you’re seeing someone at the moment.</em></p><p> “Dude…” Leigh broke the silence. “Our band is gay as <em> fuck.” </em></p><p>A few chuckles came from the Supermarine members. Cassandra wanted to laugh, but she wasn’t sure if it was respectful. Instead she entertained herself by watching George’s face grow redder and redder. </p><p>       “I think all we need is a security guard,” Haley suggested once the laughter died down. She rose from her seat, grinning wickedly. “Cassandra?”</p><p>       <em> “Oh, </em> no.” Cassandra tried to laugh, but it got stuck in her throat. “I am <em> not </em>acting as security guard.”</p><p>       “Are you sure?” Haley said. “Leigh here would <em> love </em>it--”</p><p>       “Shut up!” Leigh exclaimed, pushing Haley away from her. “We talked about this. Cassie’s not interested.”</p><p>       “But she saved your <em> ass--” </em>Haley protested.</p><p>      “Excuse me.” Cassandra slid from her seat and hopped to her feet, staring down the two women at the back of the bus. “Is there something I should know about?”</p><p>       Haley instantly fell silent, while Leigh pointedly ignored Cassandra. She prodded Haley’s shoulder. “C’mon, Haley, you’re a big girl. You don’t need Cassandra to defend you.”</p><p>       Haley looked as if she wanted to say something, but instead she chose to glower silently. As the boys looked on, Cassandra slowly slid back into her seat. Her brain couldn’t make heads or tails out of what had just happened. Presumably Haley had conversed with Leigh about Cassandra, and Leigh was not keen on letting Cassandra know what they'd said. </p><p>       “So Seattle, huh?” Marc announced after a brief silence. </p><p>       The ice shattered into pieces. Tamanna nodded. “We’re booked at the Crocodile for 8:00 tonight.”</p><p>       “Oh!” Suddenly the reason for calling a band meeting surfaced in Cassandra’s memory. She turned towards Tamanna. “I almost forgot to ask! We need to know your full touring schedule. I wasn’t expecting to play Seattle twice in one month.” <em> At least it’s not the same place this time. </em></p><p>       “You got it.” Tamanna pulled herself away from Sara and got to her feet, sashaying steadily down the aisle. After a brief conference with Tina, she returned with a yellow legal pad in hand. “Tina’s got it all written down here.”</p><p>       “Thanks.” Cassandra took the pad from Tamanna as she came around and flipped to the first page. Her bandmates leaned forward in their seats, straining to catch glimpses of the towns in which they'd be playing. </p><p>       “Seattle… Denver… Austin… Kansas City…” <em> Thankfully, no Chicago. </em>Cassandra wasn’t sure if she was ready for a hometown show just yet. She flipped to the next page, her eyes landing on a familiar name written at the bottom. It took a moment for the name to sink in, and another for her to believe that it was true. Once she accepted it, though, she felt her heart begin to pound. </p><p>       “Guys…” An electric smile lit Cassandra’s face as she tore her gaze away from the legal pad. “Why didn’t anyone tell me we’re headlining at CBGB next month?”</p><p>       “What?!” George and Marc both made <em> give it here </em>motions, but Anthony was the only one who got up to peek at the itinerary. With Cassandra’s finger highlighting the words, he read out loud, amazement saturating his words. “Stop 11, on June 11th, Supermarine plays CBGB in New York City… Stop 12, June 12th, Supermarine plays CBGB again!”</p><p>        “We snagged a double header,” Tamanna said. “Got lucky.”</p><p>       “I’ll say.” Anthony looked over at her, a genuine smile on his face. The sight was heartening, given his recent bouts of moodiness. Though to be fair, the news Crucial Taunt had just received was enough to wash away anyone’s annoyances.</p><p>       “Whoa,” Marc breathed, while George gave a nervous laugh. “Are you sure we’re ready?”</p><p>      “Of course.” Cassandra beamed at her bandmates, her heart swelling with adoration. “We’re ready for anything.” She thrust her hand forward into the aisle, and gradually, the boys followed suit. Together they shouted as loudly as possible, “RAWK AND RAAWWWL!” </p><p>       “What was that?” Tamanna blurted, while Sara tried to stifle her laughter.</p><p>       “Band tradition.” Frankly, Cassandra didn’t care to explain it. All she could think about was how much Crucial Taunt had turned a corner now that Supemarine had taken them under their wing. No matter what Cassandra did, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to find a way to repay them. But maybe she didn’t have to. Maybe the only valid form of repayment was that the dark-eyed drummer at the back of the bus was still sitting there, breathing, and her friend was suffering nothing worse than a hangover. Though Cassandra hoped never to use unnecessary violence again, maybe there was some value in being Supermarine’s security guard. </p><p>*</p><p>       Mere moments after Supermarine had finished checking into their Seattle hotel, Cassandra approached the lobby’s receptionist. “Do you know of any good malls around here?” Having skipped out on the shopping trip in Portland, Cassandra was now itching to browse through her favorite stores. She’d had bass strings on her shopping list ever since the show in Oakland, but visions of new dresses and shoes kept intruding upon her thoughts. <em> Depends on what my wallet and suitcase have to say about that…  </em></p><p> The receptionist handed Cassandra a brochure, filled with sights to see in Seattle, but the only location on which Cassandra's gaze fell was the address of the mall closest to the hotel. Just a brief taxi ride would get her there. <em> Excellent. </em>Cassandra turned around- and nearly ran right into Tamanna, on her lonesome. Without Sara by her side, Cassandra had a hard time believing she was actually there.</p><p>       “Hey,” Cassandra said. “Going somewhere?”</p><p>       “That’s the plan.” Tamanna fidgeted with the neckline of her orange halter top. Her jean jacket, which she’d worn on the bus to combat the air conditioning, was now tied around her waist. “I need to stretch my legs. Were you on your way somewhere?”</p><p>       “Yeah, the mall.” Cassandra held up the brochure the receptionist had given her. “Would like to come?” Now that Tina had impressed upon her the importance of traveling in groups and giving a head’s up before dashing off, Cassandra felt it best to heed her advice.</p><p>       “The mall.” Tamanna’s inquisitive amber eyes surveyed the brochure. “Y’know who’d really like to go? Haley. I’ll go see if she’s up for it.” Without another word, she turned tail and bounded off, down the hall away from the lobby.</p><p>       <em> Haley. </em>If Tamanna was going to invite her bandmates on this excursion, Cassandra figured it couldn’t hurt to invite her own bandmates, too. She left the lobby, where she found Anthony loitering in the parking lot, lighting a cigarette. </p><p>       “Hey.” Cassandra tossed her hair back as she approached Anthony. “Tamanna and I are going shopping. You wanna come?”</p><p>       “Not particularly,” Anthony replied. </p><p>       <em> Figures. </em>Anthony was practical about his shopping endeavors, only going out for necessities. “Okay. Where’s Marc?”</p><p>       Anthony rolled his eyes. “Where’s Haley?”</p><p>       The comment slid right past Cassandra, though she knew she could make a big deal out of it if she wanted to. “I thought he might want to see the music store. As long as he doesn’t buy out the place.”</p><p>        At that, Anthony cracked a smile. “Are you kidding? He’s been watching his investments since picking up that bong in Oakland.” He swallowed uncomfortably. “We all probably should, actually.”</p><p>        “What, we should all pick up a bong in Oakland?” </p><p>      Anthony gave Cassandra a <em> look. </em>“Just, uh… watch what you spend.”</p><p>       “Of course.” Cassandra patted Anthony’s shoulder. “Nothing but the essentials.” She started to withdraw, but Anthony moved in on her, working his jaw as if he had a juicy story to spill but wasn’t sure how to go about doing so. </p><p>        “Uh, when you come back… I wanted to talk to you.”</p><p>       <em> Okay… </em> After the past few days, Anthony could want to talk about any number of things. The fight at the bar… the burning of the Silver Bullet... the song Cassandra had written. Once the last option came up, it seemed the most likely. Anthony had yet to give his word about “Lost Cause,” and maybe now was the time he did so.</p><p>       “Does it have to wait until later?” Cassandra asked. “You know you can always talk to me about anything.”</p><p>       “Um--” Before Anthony could answer, something over Cassandra’s shoulder distracted his gaze. Cassandra turned to see Tamanna approaching, with Marc following behind her. Though Marc was taller than Tamanna, he matched her strides evenly, a carefree swagger in both of their steps. Tamanna had even pushed her hair back using a pair of sunglasses, just like Marc. </p><p>       “Guess there’s a first time for everything.” Tamanna slid her thumbs into her pockets as she reached Cassandra and Anthony. “Haley wasn’t in the mood to go, but Marc is. I think it’s just us.”</p><p>      “What about Leigh?” Cassandra blurted without thinking. A second later, coldness washed over her. Why did she care so much whether Leigh joined them?</p><p>       “She wasn’t in the mood either.” Tamanna eyed Anthony. “Are you coming?” </p><p>       “Nah,” Anthony replied with an awkward jerk of the head. “Did anyone ask George?”</p><p>       “He’s still on the bus,” Marc said nonchalantly. “Practicing.”</p><p>       Cassandra raised her eyebrows. “I don’t know if I should feel proud of him, or sorry for him.”</p><p>       “Maybe both,” Anthony muttered. He backed away from the group. “I’ll see you later, Cass, okay?” </p><p>       “Sure,” Cassandra replied, though a sense of unease crept up on her. She knew she could handle whatever it was that Anthony wanted to talk to her about, but the fact that he hadn’t just taken her aside right then and there left her feeling edgy. <em> No need to build suspense. Just tell me what you need to say. </em></p><p>        Anthony’s long legs glided across the pavement as he took leave of the group. Cassandra watched him go, only snapping to attention when Tamanna cleared her throat. </p><p>       “You ready to go?” As Tamanna surveyed her shopping partners, Cassandra got the sense that she’d taken her authoritative cues from Tina. Supermarine had its fair share of vibrant personalities, but Cassandra knew who she’d point out if she were ever asked the identity of the band's leader. </p><p>       “Yeah.” Cassandra held up her purse. “Lead the way.” Together, she and Tamanna and Marc strolled out of the parking lot, heading straight for the nearest bus station.</p><p>*</p><p>       Upon arriving at the mall, it didn’t take long for the motley trio of musicians to splinter off in different directions. Cassandra had assumed that Tamanna shared her lust for fashion, given her impeccable taste in clothing, but as soon as they entered the mall, Tamanna made a beeline for the directory to find out if there was a music store nearby.  She and Marc tried to coax Cassandra into joining them, but Cassandra hung back, eager to hit up the Limited and Delia’s. Left to her own devices, she spent several long, blissful minutes wandering from rack to rack, ogling the printed fabric and doing her best to calculate sales percentages. As she walked past the jewelry, however, her gaze lingered on a pair of sparkly earrings, and her mind froze. Her hand leapt to rub the sutures in her earlobe, memories of the night before tumbling through her head, and of the morning when Leigh had woken her with fresh breakfast.</p><p>       From midnight to dawning, Leigh had been there for Cassandra, providing for her even when Cassandra could have provided for herself. If anyone else- any of the boys, for example- had tried to do the same, Cassandra would have pushed them away. So why did she make an exception for Leigh? Only… Cassandra rapidly counted on her fingers. Only <em> six days </em>had passed, and already she’d reached a level of comfort around Leigh that normally took months for her to cultivate. She’d only ever moved this fast in her romantic relationships, falling hard and fast for someone who entertained her and made her laugh. Leigh definitely fit the bill on both counts… but Cassandra wasn’t falling in love. Or was she? She hadn’t thought it was possible for her to fall in love with a woman, but then again, it had taken her years to learn that such a desire wasn’t perverted as she’d once believed. After all this time… had she been lying to herself? </p><p>     It wasn’t as if Cassandra had never kissed a woman. Most instances had involved alcohol and a game of Truth or Dare, but she’d always done so willingly. Kissing a woman wasn’t much different from kissing a man. The difference was, she’d never specifically <em> wanted </em> to kiss a woman before. And she’d <em> definitely </em> never wanted to kiss a woman simply because she was fond of her. She had plenty of female friends and had never wanted to kiss <em> them. </em>So what made Leigh different? Was Leigh’s sexuality the only reason Cassandra was reading anything more into this? It didn’t make Cassandra a lesbian to admit that she wanted to be around Leigh as much as possible, that hearing her laugh brightened every aspect of her day. Leigh was a naturally fun person who threw off as much light as she absorbed, and anyone with eyes and an open heart could see that. </p><p>       <em> Then again… I felt the same about Wayne…  </em></p><p>        Thoroughly put off, Cassandra fled the jewelry section in an attempt to flee from her thoughts as well. But her mind refused to shut up, even when browsing the clearance rack. In a daze, she stared at the mannequins looking down on her, taking in the slender shape of their plastic bodies. Try as she might, she couldn’t seem to focus on what was in front of her. </p><p>       Maybe what she needed was a change of scenery. <em> What are Marc and Tamanna up to? </em>Cassandra exited the store and headed for the directory, searching for the name of the shop to which Marc and Tamanna had gone. She followed the sign’s instructions, traveling up an escalator and passing mothers pushing strollers, bored employees leaning over their kiosks, teenagers loitering around the gumball machines. Eventually, a flashing neon piano jumped out at her, its light guiding her forward. </p><p>       The music store was sparser than the one back in Aurora that Cassandra used to frequent on her days off, but it had what the other one didn’t- a small record section, next to a collection of turntables. Amidst the guitars covering the walls, the aisles of sheet music, and the amplifiers lined up in size order, Cassandra spotted a flash of dirty blond hair and a black ponytail. Tamanna and Marc were staring up at a particularly extravagant Fender model, deep in discussion.</p><p>       “...Reinhardt, Sparks, Edge,” Tamanna was saying as Cassandra approached.</p><p>       “Edge?” Marc repeated. “Really?” He drummed his fingers against the shiny booklet in his hands.</p><p>      “Yeah, I know he gets flack, but I mean, <em> Achtung Baby </em>is something else.” Tamanna pushed a long strand of loose hair behind her ear. “What about you?”</p><p>       “Van Halen, Santanna, Satriani, Tufnel, Vai...” Marc glanced up. “Oh hi, Cassandra!” In sync, he and Tamanna turned to greet her. </p><p>       “Hi, guys.” Cassandra indicated the booklet Marc was holding. “What’s that?”</p><p>       Marc held the booklet up so Cassandra could read it. The letters danced across her field of vision- <em> Twenty-Four Solos For Jazz Guitar. </em></p><p>“Oh, no.” She met Marc’s eyes, trying to control her burgeoning smile. “Not you, too.”</p><p>        “Oh, yes.” Tamanna gripped Marc’s shoulder and grinned buggily at him. “Someone’s sliding off the slippery slope…” She dodged a swipe from Marc, who was in the midst of cracking up. “Sorry!”</p><p>       “And what are you getting?” Cassandra asked, indicating the small plastic bag in Tamanna’s hand.</p><p>        “A present for Sara.” Smiling, Tamanna reached into the bag and pulled out a silver harmonica. “You find anything you like, Cassandra?”</p><p>       “I’m not sure,” Cassandra said. “Not at the clothing stores.”</p><p>       “I’m sure something here will strike your fancy,” Tamanna said. “If you wanna go hit up the food court or something, just let me know.” With that, she made her way towards the amps at the back, trailing her fingers against the wall along the way. </p><p>       “Strings are over there,” Marc said. He gestured behind his back with his thumb.</p><p>        “Thanks.” Cassandra took off in the direction that Marc had indicated. Sure enough, she soon came across a rotating rack that featured several brands on strings. It didn’t take long to pick out some bass guitar strings from D’addario, identical to the ones that she’d put on her instrument a week ago. <em> Just significantly better quality. </em> Sliding the strings idly between her fingers, she took a moment to observe her surroundings. Somewhere in the back of the store, someone was having a blast with a pitch-bend controller. <em> Is that Tamanna? </em>Cassandra couldn’t see past the massive drum set on display in the center of the room, which Marc was now admiring. She turned her attention back to the vinyl section, set up at the front to entice passersby to stop in and browse. To her shock, a familiar face stared up at her from the shelf. She drifted over to inspect it.</p><p>       The album’s title leapt out at Cassandra- <em> Dangerous Curves. </em> Beneath the title, Lita Ford was shot in profile, kneeling on a platform and gripping her guitar for balance. Smiling, Cassandra picked up the record. Her thoughts turned inevitably to the concert she’d seen back in 1988- her first concert in America. <em> And it definitely wasn’t the last. </em></p><p><em>         When I was a kid, I wanted to marry the Runaways, </em> Leigh’s voice whispered in Cassandra’s ear. <em> Like… every single one of them. </em> It was unthinkable for Cassandra to imagine that as a childhood goal, and she wondered how quickly Leigh had learned that marrying a girl was out of the question. Not that <em> Leigh </em> and <em> marriage </em>had ever struck Cassandra as a perfect pair. She flipped the record over, pondering its tracklist.</p><p>       The last time Leigh had gone shopping, she’d brought back a gift for Cassandra. And now Cassandra could return the favor. Since their last tour stop, she felt as if she’d been a bottomless vessel, receiving Leigh’s attention without letting it flow over the rim. But now she could share some of that attention, if she wanted.</p><p>       “Find anything good?” Cassandra nearly jumped out of her skin as Marc’s voice rumbled through her ear. She spun around, holding up the record, and Marc nodded approvingly, giving a thumb’s up.</p><p>       “I think I’m ready to check out.”</p><p>       Marc cast his gaze to the back of the store. “I don’t think Tamanna is.”</p><p>       Cassandra raised her eyebrows. “Maybe she’ll come if we offer her free lunch.”</p><p>       “Free lunch? Who’s serving?”</p><p>       Cassandra grinned. <em> “We </em>are.”</p><p>*</p><p>       After paying for two meals at the food court, Cassandra took the bus back to the hotel with Tamanna and Marc. Because the drive to Seattle had taken hardly any time, there were still plenty of hours to kill before load-in at the Crocodile. Which also meant plenty of opportunities to talk to Anthony, for better or worse. Now that she’d gotten out and cleared her head,  Cassandra wasn’t the slightest bit nervous. She’d hear Anthony out with an open mind, before deciding if it was worth launching into defensive mode.</p><p>       “George?” Cassandra called as she clambered onto the bus. Out of all the boys, George was the most likely to still be there, either practicing or taking a nap. However, the aisle was empty. The plastic bag in which the clerk at the music store had packed her Lita Ford record swished as Cassandra strolled up to the black curtains at the end of the bus. “Is anyone here?”</p><p>       Anthony abruptly popped his head out from behind the curtains. “George went out to see if Marc was back.”</p><p>      “Jesus!” Cassandra exclaimed. She set her plastic bag down on the nearest seat. “You scared me, Anthony!”</p><p>       “Cool,” Anthony replied absently. He crept forward, his eyes on the shopping bag Cassandra had set down. “What’s in there?”</p><p>       “Oh, um…”  Cassandra was both flustered from Anthony’s sudden appearance, and concerned for his reaction. Either way, she didn’t feel like admitting to him what she’d bought. “Just a record.” Hurriedly she added, “Absolutely essential.”</p><p>       “Yeah?” Anthony said, but Cassandra could tell that he wasn’t focused on her shopping trip anymore. <em> So he doesn’t want to talk to me about money. </em>The thought left her unmoved. Anthony was playing his cards close to his chest, and Cassandra would soon find out if she’d win or lose. She waited for Anthony meet her gaze before questioning him.</p><p>        “You wanted to talk to me?”</p><p>       “Yeah.” Anthony forced a strangled half-laugh. “Of course. Just, uh…” He scratched his head, his eyes darting to the nearest window. “You want to take a walk?”</p><p>        <em> Okay… </em>The situation was growing stranger by the second. Cassandra nodded, stepping out of the way so that Anthony could slide past her. His thumbs were in his pockets, and he rolled his feet forward as if he were marching in precision with an army. The display of masculinity would have made Cassandra laugh, except she was sure Anthony was dead-serious. He had no reason to be, though. He’d always made it clear that he saw himself as equal to the rest of the band. Since when had he stopped seeing it that way? </p><p>        Cassandra disembarked from the bus, following Anthony into the parking lot and onwards to the nearby sidewalk. As they walked, she noticed him concentrating on the clouds, the surrounding buildings, the vehicles passing in the street… anything but Cassandra. Not a word slipped from his lips, be it positive or negative. Inside Cassandra, a sense of annoyance kindled to life. Anthony had said that he wanted to wait to talk to her after she got back from the mall, but now that she was back, here he was stalling for time. <em> Is it really that hard to start a conversation? </em>Perhaps she’d misread his intentions- maybe this wasn’t about her at all. Maybe he’d gotten a recent call from home, conveying unwanted news. But Cassandra couldn’t see why he’d keep such a thing to himself for such a lenghty amount of time. </p><p>       At the end of the block, Anthony stopped and gestured to a bench. “You wanna sit down?”</p><p>       Cassandra studied the bench, one eyebrow raising. “Isn’t this a bus stop?”</p><p>       “Uh--” Hastily Anthony glanced up, as if just now noticing the sign above the bench that marked it as a stop for public transit. Instead of laughing off the mistake, however, he exhaled slowly, folding his arms across his chest. Still no words came. The silence stirred Cassandra’s agitation further.</p><p>       “Anthony.” Gripping the bench, she spun around to lean backwards against it. “What did you want to talk to me about?”</p><p>       Anthony unfolded his arms. “That song you showed us- what’s it called?”</p><p>      <em> Aha. </em>So Cassandra’s initial suspicions had been correct. She tilted her head back, peering down her nose at Anthony. “‘Lost Cause.’ You like it?”</p><p>       Getting down to business seemed to be the right move. The tension visibly left Anthony’s body, his gaze finally snapping onto Cassandra. Warmth infused his voice when he opened his mouth.</p><p>       “I <em> do </em> like it, a lot. I mean, what you showed us on the bus?” Again he forced a laugh. “That was rad. <em> ” </em></p><p>A buoyant sensation burbled up inside Cassandra, momentarily breaking the tension. She felt like stretching out her arms and dancing. Anthony had been the lone holdout, the last of her bandmates to give his opinion on her new song, and his approval was basically the go-ahead to start working on it as a full band. However, the strained laughter and the general awkwardness of Anthony’s demeanor suggested that there was more to what he wanted to say, and not all of it was positive. </p><p>      “But?” Cassandra said, mentally bracing herself.</p><p>      Anthony started, as if surprised that Cassandra had anticipated the path down which he was steering the conversation. <em> Though he really shouldn’t be. </em>He rubbed his face with the back of his hand. “Okay, don’t take this the wrong way, but-- Cassandra--”</p><p>       Already Cassandra’s hackles were rising. She forced herself to stay calm. “What?”</p><p>       “I just wanna- why’d you write the song with Leigh and not any of us?” Anthony finally burst out.</p><p>       <em> Oh. </em> Cassandra narrowed her eyes, dumbfounded as to how she hadn’t predicted this. Anthony had shown signs of petty jealousy back in San Francisco, when he’d walked offstage after Cassandra had invited Leigh and Sara to sing with the band, but Cassandra had hoped he’d gotten over it. Instead, it appeared he’d allowed his resentment to fester and spread beneath his skin, until it was all he could focus on. <em> When is he going to learn… </em></p><p>“None of you were interested.” If Cassandra had wanted to, she could have pointed out how Anthony and George had both specifically turned down the opportunity to serve as co-writer back when she’d first come up with the song, but she didn’t feel like playing the blame game. “Leigh was, and she wanted to help. She’s a great writer. I don’t see a problem.”</p><p>       “You don’t?” A mocking, incredulous note entered Anthony’s voice, a half-smirk gracing his lips. He jammed his thumbs back into his pockets and stared hard at Cassandra, a lock of blond hair falling into his face. “You don’t think it’s a <em> problem </em> that me and Marc and George were just shut out?”</p><p>       “Anthony--” A fiery lightning bolt shot through Cassandra. “If Marc and George have a problem, why haven’t they talked to me?”</p><p>      Anthony shook his head. “I don’t know if <em> they </em>have a problem, but…” He blew out a quick breath, searching for words. “We’re supposed to-- The band’s democratic, okay? If it doesn’t speak for all of us--”</p><p>       “Democracy doesn’t mean everyone feeling the same,” Cassandra exclaimed. “I don’t know much about your country, but at least I know <em> that.” </em></p><p>       She half-expected Anthony to burst out laughing, as he sometimes did when Cassandra made a joke about living in the United States, but he winced instead, closing his eyes and rubbing at his face again. </p><p>       “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “It’s just… It hurt. That’s all I wanted to say.”</p><p>        Cassandra nodded. Frozen memories began to surface in her brain, like flies preserved in amber. Anthony in Los Angeles, trying in his dismissive, casual way to lift Cassandra’s spirits. Anthony at the Burnout the night before, rushing the man who’d pushed Cassandra even though he had no hopes of winning. Cassandra may have been perceived as Crucial Taunt's star performer, but just like Tamanna with Supermarine, she knew who was really calling the shots.</p><p>       Sentimental words poured from Cassandra’s mouth. “I’m not going to replace you, Anthony. And I’m not going to leave the band.”</p><p>      Anthony shook his head. “See, you say that now, but--”</p><p>      “There’s no <em> but,” </em>Cassandra repeated firmly. “It was one song.”</p><p>      “One song that could lead to--”</p><p>      “Just <em> get a grip, </em>Wayne!” Cassandra shouted.</p><p>       What she’d said didn’t dawn on her until she watched sheer bafflement take charge of Anthony's face. Immediately a flood of heat rose to Cassandra’s cheeks. So gratingly familiar was Anthony’s attitude that she’d tumbled backwards in time to when Wayne was the one complaining about with whom she was spending too much time. As a fiercely independent individual, Cassandra had always been able to recognize the symptoms of possessiveness, and Anthony was no different. </p><p>      “Are we going through creative differences?” she said lightly. </p><p>      Despite himself, Anthony quirked a genuine smile. “I don’t want to be one of those bands that breaks up on the road.”</p><p>       “Me either.” The notion hadn’t even occurred to Cassandra until Anthony had brought it up, but immediately she realized how deeply she agreed. So far, Anthony was the only continuous source of opposition within Crucial Taunt over the course of their tour. But their clashes were nothing like the brutal arguments of which Cassandra had always heard rumors, all the great bands that had been pulled apart the instant they were forced to travel together. Perhaps it was good that this conflict felt nothing like what she’d expected. She wondered how many bands had broken up due to a simple misunderstanding, a refusal to talk to each other. At least Anthony had taken the advice she’d given him in San Francisco to heart.</p><p>       They stood there quietly for a few more moments, each waiting for the other to make the next move, before Cassandra finally decided to point out, “You don’t own me, Anthony. You can’t stop me from writing with who I want to write with.”</p><p>      “Yeah, I’m not- trying to <em> attack </em>you, or anything,” Anthony said quickly. “It’s just… I mean, what’s the point?”</p><p>       “What <em> is </em>the point?”</p><p>       Though Anthony mumbled, his intention was clear. “Well, even if you and Leigh write more songs together, it’s not like you’ll see each other again after this tour is over.”</p><p>      The statement jabbed Cassandra in the gut. Until now, she hadn’t bothered envisioning where her writing partnership with Leigh was going to go. She was happy to exist in a bubble, working out songs with no vision of the future. But Anthon’s words sunk in, sapping her resolve. After the tour, she and Leigh would be two thousand miles away, tethered to each other by a bad connection on the phone. Her throat dried at the thought, and her stomach sank. </p><p>       When Cassandra spoke, her voice was shaky. “If I can keep in touch with my family in Hong Kong, I can keep in touch with Leigh in LA.” She hoped she’d manage to convince herself as much as Anthony.</p><p>       Instead of replying, Anthony cringed. It hit Cassandra that she’d said exactly what he didn’t want to hear. He’d been expecting <em> oh, you’re right, I should stop writing songs with her and start writing them with you, </em> not an implicit admission that Cassandra wanted to maintain the relationship despite the distance. A sour taste coated the back of Cassandra’s throat, and her anger sparked again. <em> He has to make this an ego thing? </em>She was sad to be losing a friend and potential creative partner, but Anthony only saw this as being disloyal to the band.</p><p>       “Anthony, I care about this band more than anything. I wouldn’t be here--” Cassandra gestured widely with her arms, indicating the scope of America- “if I didn’t believe in us. I love working with Leigh, but that doesn’t mean she’s <em> better </em> than any of you. Just… <em> different</em>.” Her voice softened in an attempt to bring Anthony back around. “It doesn’t have to be a competition.”</p><p>       A dark shadow passed across Anthony’s face. “I just don’t want to see you hurting anyone else.”</p><p>      Cassandra frowned. “Who am I hurting?”</p><p>      <em> “You </em>know who.” Anthony started to turn away, but Cassandra grabbed his arm. </p><p>       “No, Anthony, I don’t know. Who am I hurting?” </p><p>       For a moment, she thought Anthony wasn’t going to say anything. <em> Forthcoming </em>wasn't exactly the first word she’d choose to describe him. But while she tried to decide if she should press him further, he spoke. </p><p>       “There’s a reason Leigh hangs out with you and not us.” </p><p>       <em> What? </em>Cassandra searched Anthony’s face, trying to determine if he’d meant what she thought he’d meant, while Anthony waited patiently for his intent to sink in. Only when he moved slightly did Cassandra realize she was still gripping his arm. She released him, and he backed away. </p><p>       “Leigh is my friend.” Cassandra didn’t care how defensive she sounded. “I don’t know what you’re seeing, but… it’s not what you…” <em> It’s not what you think. </em> But what if Anthony was right? What if it <em> was?  </em></p><p>       “Whatever.” Again Anthony turned away, and this time, Cassandra didn’t stop him. She struggled to find her voice, only managing to shout just as he had turned back into the parking lot. </p><p>       “Being jealous of her is not going to make you feel better about yourself!” </p><p>       Her words were lost in the humid air, and Anthony didn’t turn around. </p><p>*</p><p>       The Crocodile was the type of punk bar to which Cassandra was rapidly becoming accustomed, and at which Supermarine easily made themselves at home. From the moment they arrived, they began mingling with the employees and the local band set to share their bill, Three Dots and a Dash. Tina set up shop at the bar, proudly watching over Supermarine as they loaded in their equipment. George and Anthony immediately went out for a smoke, while Marc hovered around Supermarine, carrying amps and mic stands. <em> Guess Haley appreciates the help more than Leigh does. </em> But Cassandra remained on her feet, circling the room periodically as if every lap would reveal something new. She tried to outpace the words spinning through her head, the ones with which Anthony had left her. <em> There’s a reason Leigh hangs out with you and not us… </em> Though he hadn’t cared to share his imagined reasons, Cassandra was pretty sure she knew to what he was referring. And she did not want to accept it as true. <em> You’re a star, </em> Leigh had said the night before. <em> Don’t try to dim your light. </em>She hadn’t mentioned the possibility that Cassandra’s light had dazzled her, the same way it had dazzled Wayne. Frustration curled Cassandra’s hands into fists. Would anybody ever care to know her for who she truly was? </p><p>       Though Crucial Taunt had traveled to the venue together, Anthony hadn’t said a word to Cassandra on the way there. Normally Cassandra would have no time for his silent treatment, but this time she preferred to stay silent too. He’d given her enough to think about. She wondered who would extend the olive branch first. Somehow she didn’t think apologies were going to happen before the show. It wasn’t Anthony’s professionalism on which she was relying, but his stubborn ability to brush issues under the rug and promptly forget about them, until the dust they’d collected proved to be too much. </p><p>      When soundcheck rolled around, Cassandra decided that something needed to be done. She ordered a round of shots from the bar and brought them up onstage. When her bandmates caught sight of the tray Cassandra was carrying, George’s brow furrowed and Marc’s eyes bulged. </p><p>       “Uh, what’s with the shots?” George gestured to Cassandra’s peace offering. “Wait- are we going on without a soundcheck?” </p><p>       “No!” Cassandra forced her lips into a smile as she held the tray aloft. “I just thought we could do with a little… advance courage.” </p><p>       Marc shrugged. “Sounds good.” He ambled over and swiped one of the shot glasses. George still looked confused- <em> but then again, when does he not? </em>Cassandra had to encourage him to take the shot with a nod. That only left Anthony, hovering by his drum set. His eyes searched Cassandra’s face for a sign of surrender. In answer, Cassandra picked up the tequila shot she’d ordered and held it out. “Don’t let this go to waste!” All she needed to know was that Anthony held nothing against her, and then they’d be free to play the show. </p><p>       “C’mon, Anthony,” George said when Anthony stayed where he was. “You’re the only one who likes tequila.”</p><p>       “I’m not the <em> only </em>one,” Anthony muttered, but he didn’t seem annoyed. At last he came forward, snatching the glass out of Cassandra’s hand. He didn’t look her in the eye, but Cassandra had the feeling that he'd submitted to her.</p><p>       “All right, guys.” Cassandra held up her shot of gin. “I wanted to toast to <em> us </em>tonight. To Crucial Taunt. We’ve come so far, and I couldn’t have done this without any of you. Marc, George… Anthony…” She let her gaze linger on him longer than was comfortable. “You guys are the best. I love you.”</p><p>      “Awwww, Cassandr<em>aaaa,” </em>George blurted, flushed but flattered, while Marc reached out to pat her shoulder. A small smile appeared on Anthony’s face, his eyes rising from the shot glass in his hand.</p><p>       “All right. Save that mushy crap for the end of the tour.”</p><p>       “Love you too, Anthony,” Cassandra murmured, pleased. He’d come around fairly easily. <em> He always does. </em>She held up her shot glass. “To Crucial Taunt!”</p><p>       “To Crucial Taunt!” The boys downed their shots, with Cassandra following right after. Satisfaction radiated through her. Now that she’d just knocked things back on-kilter, they were going to play a <em> great </em> show.</p><p>       When soundcheck ended and Cassandra walked offstage, she found Leigh waiting on the floor where the audience would be standing later, her arms folded. At the sight of Cassandra, she blossomed like a flower, dropping her arms and walking over. </p><p>      “Hey,” Cassandra said.</p><p>       “Hey.” Leigh swiped at her messy hair. She’d halted mere inches from Cassandra, a little closer than Cassandra would have liked. “Do you wanna go out and grab something to eat?” </p><p>       “Why not stay here? The food’s free.”</p><p>       “Yeah, well… I dunno if I trust it.” Leigh glanced toward the nearest exit. “There’s this kosher deli down the street that I was eyeing… You wanna go there?” </p><p>       “Sure.” Offering a smile, Cassandra strolled across the floor, heading for the club’s entrance. She called out to Tina at the bar. “We’re going down the street- we’ll be back before the show!”  </p><p>       Tina aimed a thumb’s up her way. “Make sure Leigh doesn't miss soundcheck!”</p><p>       Outside, the night was heating up. Several twentysomethings were already standing around the club’s entrance, chatting and sharing cigarettes. A few stares lingered as Cassandra and Leigh passed them, as if they recognized that the two musicians were not of this world. <em> We make a flashy pair, </em>Cassandra noted as she strolled down the sidewalk. Herself in her black-and-white splotched tee, and Leigh in her faded jeans and fanny pack, without a lick of makeup on her face. She was utterly uncaring of her appearance, and Cassandra wouldn’t have had it any other way. </p><p>       “Tonight’s gonna be great,” Leigh said when they’d wandered halfway down the block. “This place has really come up since the last time we toured.”</p><p>       “Did you play at the Crocodile before?” Cassandra asked.</p><p>       “Nah, it wasn’t the right scene.” Leigh slid her thumbs into her pockets. “Tina’s great at picking out the right venues for us. We wouldn’t have gotten nearly as big an audience here if she wasn't managing us.”</p><p>       “Because you weren’t ready?” Cassandra asked.</p><p>       Leigh laughed. “Because Seattle wasn’t ready for us.”</p><p>       Cassandra laughed too, fully at ease. Anthony’s discussion from earlier now seemed like a distant memory. The only reason she’d ever let his concerns trouble her was that Leigh hadn’t been around to assuage her. Anyone who could find fault in her association with Leigh needed their head examined. That being said, she couldn’t think of a way to convince Anthony otherwise. If she didn’t nip it in the bud, the friction between herself and Anthony could be potent enough to end their association, before Crucial Taunt’s first album even came out. <em> It’s a balancing act, </em> she reflected. Working with both Leigh and the boys made Cassandra happy… but only one of those relationships made the boys happy in return. <em> Is it worth it if we’re not all satisfied?  </em></p><p>       By the time Cassandra and Leigh reached the deli, Cassandra had forced such matters from her mind. She hung back while Leigh approached the counter, an order apparently already in mind. Her eyes scanned the blackboard over the counter, each sandwich listed making her mouth water. </p><p>      “And what would you like?” The man behind the counter gestured to Cassandra, startling her. <em>Leigh sure knew what SHE wanted.</em></p><p>       “Um--” As Cassandra stepped forward, she felt a hand land on her back. Leigh’s hand. She froze, assuming that Leigh had touched her by accident, but her hand refused to budge. It stayed put as the man waited for Cassandra’s order. </p><p>      Cassandra wet her lips, trying to figure out the purpose behind Leigh’s gentle touch. “One reuben, please. And some water.”</p><p>      “All right.” The man wrote down the order on a ticket. “Together or separate?”</p><p>       “W--” Cassandra began, but Leigh stopped her. “Together.” She slid her hand from Cassandra’s back and zipped open her fanny pack to pull out her wallet. The noise around Cassandra seemed to fade out as she watched the deli worker ring up the order and Leigh fork over the appropriate amount of cash.</p><p>       This… was Cassandra imagining it, or was this…</p><p>      Was she on a <em> date? </em></p><p>“Hey, Cassie?” Cassandra recoiled slightly as Leigh appeared suddenly in her field of vision, but Leigh seemed unconcerned. “You want to eat here, or go back to the club?”</p><p>       “Uh.” Cassandra swallowed. “We can eat on the way back.”</p><p>      “Okay.” Leigh dangled a brown paper bag in front of Cassandra’s eyes. “Here you go.”</p><p>       Cassandra mechanically took the bag, her stomach churning. She grabbed her foil-wrapped sandwich and handed it back to Leigh. As Leigh took the bag, her fingers brushed against Cassandra’s, sending a flash of heat through Cassandra’s skin. </p><p>       This couldn’t be a <em> date. </em>What was she thinking? But as Cassandra followed Leigh out of the deli, she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to this excursion. Rather than invite the bandmates she’d known for years, Leigh had specifically invited Cassandra to come with her, and Cassandra alone. She’d paid for both of their meals. And she’d touched Cassandra as if it were nothing, as if she were used to it…</p><p>       <em> Cassie. </em> Cassandra side-eyed Leigh, who was already digging into her sandwich. On the other hand, Cassandra might as well have let go of hers. Leigh had called Cassandra <em> Cassie, </em> not just once, but many times. She’d gladly acquitted herself as Cassandra’s songwriting partner, and she’d proven more than once that she was firmly in Cassandra’s corner, comforting her after a public breakdown and sitting with her at the doctor’s office and even bringing her breakfast the morning after. And then there were Anthony’s suspicions, and Haley’s mocking comments from that morning- <em> Oh please. That’s not what you said last night. Leigh here would LOVE it…  </em></p><p>       But none of that necessarily meant that Leigh had <em> feelings </em> for Cassandra. Did it? Cassandra certainly didn’t have feelings for <em> her… </em></p><p>
  <em>        Or do I?</em>
</p><p>Just as Cassandra was wondering if she’d react the same way if Leigh were a man, Leigh startled her. “I thought we could do something after the show tonight.”</p><p>      “Like what?” Cassandra managed to say.</p><p>       “We could hang out at the hotel.” Leigh licked a drop of mustard off her finger. “Watch TV, or play a game or something. I think Tamanna brought Pictionary… Seems like you guys are always heading off to the bus after the show. It might be good to hang out for once.”</p><p>      “Oh,” Cassandra said, because she couldn’t think of anything else. The suggestion seemed harmless enough. Maybe she <em> was </em> just imagining these feelings of Leigh’s. Maybe she was just feeling lonely, and it flattered her to believe that someone was into her. But that couldn’t be the case, because it wasn’t attention that Cassandra craved. <em> How many times did I have to tell Wayne…  </em></p><p>       “We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Leigh said hurriedly. “If not, I thought maybe…” She didn’t look at Cassandra as she addressed her, as if embarrassed. “Would you want to work on a song tonight? The one we started in the park a few days ago?”</p><p>       If Cassandra hadn’t seen Leigh’s face at that moment, the question would have paralyzed her with indecisiveness. Should she say yes, knowing how opposed Anthony was to the concept, or should she follow her heart? But as she gazed into Leigh’s eyes, her heart plummeted. The way Leigh was looking at her, waiting desperately for a reaction but half-afraid for one, her dark eyes gleaming in the streetlights, fixated on Cassandra’s lips… Cassandra <em> knew </em> that face. It was the same one that Wayne had worn when he’d initially asked if he could call her up sometime. It was the face of someone who’d been thoroughly dazzled. It was the face of someone who most <em> definitely </em>had feelings for Cassandra.</p><p>       <em> All this time… </em> Cassandra stopped short, fighting back the wave of crushing disappointment. <em> This whole week, she hung around me for one reason… </em> Clearly Leigh had taken a shine to Cassandra from the start, and Cassandra had no way of knowing if she’d actually been so supportive because she truly wanted to uplift her, or she’d merely used it as a way to get close to Cassandra. Either way… she had to put a stop to this. <em> Shit. I guess Anthony was right. </em> The last thing Cassandra wanted was to hurt yet another person she cared about.</p><p>      “Uh, you okay, Cassie?” Leigh asked.</p><p>       “I…” Cassandra stopped herself from shaking her head. She didn’t want to worry Leigh. This had to be as clean a break as possible. She turned to face Leigh, drawing close so that they were separated from any passersby.</p><p>       “There’s something I need to tell you, Leigh.” Cassandra swallowed. “I don’t think we should write songs together anymore.”</p><p>       “What?” Leigh breathed, so quietly that Cassandra wasn’t sure if she was aware she’d spoken. Her face morphed from breathless expectation to wide-eyed bewilderment. “Why?”</p><p>       Cassandra wet her lips, searching for words. <em> My bandmate doesn’t want me to. </em>It was true… but it was unfair to throw Anthony under the bus, and it diminished the importance of her decision. Yet she couldn’t come right out and say that she suspected Leigh had a crush on her.</p><p>      Finally she came up with, “I just don’t want to anymore. I value what we’ve done together, but I’d rather focus on performing for the future.”</p><p>       The words fell like stones against Cassandra’s ears. Even Leigh seemed to flinch. All of her swagger dropped away, leaving her quivering where she stood, unsure of what to say or where to put her hands.</p><p>      “Well… okay…” she said at last, her eyes darting everywhere but towards Cassandra’s face. “I guess that’s… I mean, I thought we were doing pretty well…”</p><p>       “Of course we were,” Cassandra said, trying to ease the pain. <em> Don’t freak out, Leigh. </em> “I appreciate that you helped me with my song. I just don’t want to write any new ones on the road.”</p><p>      Her statement smacked of phoniness, but Leigh didn’t seem to notice, only nodding feebly. “Okay…” Before Cassandra could say anything else, she turned and walked away. A sudden surge of anxiety gripped Cassandra. Her phrasing may have been harsh, but she didn’t want to leave their conversation on such a sour note.</p><p>       “I’d still like to hang out tonight!” she called behind Leigh’s back.</p><p>       Leigh said nothing, but she increased her pace, her hips swinging as she walked. Cassandra could do nothing but stare after her. A small voice in the back of her head offered tentative congratulations. She’d managed to satisfy Anthony’s desires, and had cut Leigh off before hurting her. Watching her leave, however, Cassandra had a feeling that she was already too late.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next chapter: An attempt to make things right with Leigh only botches their relationship further.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Try to Push Myself Away</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>5/30/93: Crucial Taunt and Supermarine play Denver. Cassandra reconsiders her choices and attempts to reconcile with Leigh.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>       As it turned out, Cassandra did not hang out with Leigh after the show. She didn’t hang out with anyone. Not because she didn’t want to, but because she wasn’t invited. After hitting the restroom and helping her bandmates pack up equipment, she ran into Tina, who informed her that three-fourths of Supermarine were on their way back to the hotel. Haley, the fourth one, was ostensibly manning the merch table, but Cassandra suspected she had really stayed behind to chat with Marc. She didn’t raise a fuss over the news, but upon rejoining the boys, she felt as if a rock was lodged in her throat. The conversation she’d had with Leigh replayed itself in her head, swelling to drown out the voices of those surrounding her. Could she have done anything differently when handling Leigh's feelings for her? <em> Should </em>she have?</p><p>       Questions continued to bother Cassandra as the tour bus zipped its way down the interstate the next morning, en route to Denver- or rather, en route to the hotel between Seattle and Denver that Tina had booked. Try as she might, she couldn’t get Leigh’s disappointed expression out of her head. Not that it was hard to be reminded. Instead of taking her place beside Cassandra in the back of the bus, as she had for the past couple of days, Leigh was now sitting at the front, right across from Tina- as far away from Cassandra as possible. Left with no one to talk to, Cassandra stewed in her juices, mulling over the choices she’d made the night before.</p><p>       In ending her partnership with Leigh, surely she was saving her from a world of pain. The last thing she wanted to do was lead Leigh on, or fall from the pedestal Leigh had set her upon. Not to mention that avoiding outside collaboration ensured harmony within Crucial Taunt. So why- <em> why </em>did it hurt so much to witness Leigh sitting on her own, as far from Cassandra as possible? Why did she feel like she was making the biggest mistake of her life?</p><p>       <em> I’m fragile. </em>It had hardly been a month since Cassandra’s relationship with Wayne had gone down in flames, along with the Silver Bullet. No wonder she’d latched onto Leigh so quickly, relying on a new friendship to keep herself moving forward. Maybe taking a break from her would benefit herself as much as it would benefit Leigh, protecting her from the confusing, muddled feelings that had risen two nights ago, when Leigh had comforted her after her freakout at the Burnout. With that in mind, Cassandra did her best to push down her guilt, and carefully avoided Leigh for the rest of the drive.</p><p>       It was late by the time the bus reached its destination, not far from the Utah-Idaho border.  Tina stood up in the aisle shortly after the bus pulled into the hotel parking lot. “Remember to thank Ricky before you get off the bus! He’s been navigating these roads like a champ!”</p><p>       “Let’s go Rick-ay!” Leigh cheered. She leapt up to offer a high five. The action took Cassandra aback. Somehow, she’d assumed that Leigh had been down in the dumps, so it rubbed her the wrong way to see her so jovial. She folded her arms over her chest. <em> Fine.  So she’s moved on. About time I move on, too. </em></p><p>       “I’ll bring you some menus from the lobby,” Tina addressed Crucial Taunt, after Supermarine had filed off the bus. “Let me know what you want and I’ll place the order. Remember, don’t go anywhere without telling me first.”</p><p>      “No need to make ourselves at home,” Anthony said, standing up to stretch his cramped limbs. “We’re just passing through.”</p><p>      “Yeah.” George picked up the knapsack he’d been resting his feet on and pulled at its drawstring. “Yesterday was exciting <em> enough.” </em></p><p>Cassandra stood up on unsteady feet, an equally-unsteady feeling building inside her. After retiring the night before, her only excursions outside the bus were to grab breakfast that morning and to use the restroom and stretch her tired legs at a rest stop halfway to their destination. The thought of spending another few hours in cramped quarters with her bandmates left something to be desired. Even a short walk around the block was preferable, affording her some private time with her thoughts. </p><p>“I could do laundry,” Cassandra blurted. “We’re coming in late tomorrow. We need to have clean clothes before we hit the stage.”  </p><p>      “That’d be great.” Anthony aimed a satisfied grin Cassandra’s way, but Cassandra pretended not to see it. As complex as her feelings towards Leigh currently were, they were still running neck and neck with her feelings towards Anthony. Though at least those feelings weren't on the verge of romantic...</p><p>        “Yeah, thanks, Cassandra.” From his knapsack, George drew out a pack of cards, which he held up to show Marc. “What’ll it be- Palace? Capitalism?”</p><p>       <em> All right. </em>Cassandra turned to slip behind the black curtains at the back of the bus, but before she could do so, a dreaded series of words escaped from Tina’s mouth. “Would you mind waiting for me, Cassandra? I’ve got some laundry to do, too.”</p><p>       <em> No!! </em> Now that Cassandra had set her heart on getting some alone time, she wasn’t keen to give it up, especially for the sake of the one person on tour she’d interacted with the least so far. Then again… if someone <em> had </em>to accompany her, perhaps it was best to be the one furthest removed from her. Any conversation Tina wanted to make would almost certainly <em>not</em> be about songwriting partnerships, or bands breaking up, or public breakdowns leading to uncomfortable, mystifying emotions. </p><p>       “Sure.” Cassandra nodded. “I’ll wait for you.” With that, she headed past the curtains. As the sole woman in a band of men, she had to hand it to the boys- none of them were slobs. Though George never managed to make his bed and Anthony was prone to leaving his personal belongings in random places, all of them were diligent about packing up their dirty laundry in the communal laundry bag. It also didn’t hurt that none of them had qualms about wearing the same shirt three days in a row. On the other hand, Cassandra’s bulging suitcase and the outfits that she carefully laid out for herself every morning told a different story. </p><p>        Tina was waiting for Cassandra mere minutes after Cassandra had wrangled her laundry bag off the bus. The suitcase in her hands was the same one she’d brought with her into the hotel. <em> No wonder she came back so fast. She had nothing to unpack.  </em></p><p>       “I asked the desk clerk where the nearest laundromat is.” Tina held up a folded piece of paper, across which an address was written. “If we’re lucky, we might catch the last bus.”</p><p>       “How will we get back to pick up our laundry?” Cassandra asked. </p><p>       “You can turn in for the night when we get back,” Tina said. “I’ll pick up your laundry for you." She strode ahead, Cassandra following at an arm’s length. </p><p>       "Oh, you don’t need to do that…” </p><p>        Tina sighed warmly. “Don’t worry, Cassandra. This is all I <em>ever</em> do.” </p><p>        A bus arrived shortly after Tina and Cassandra reached the stop. They boarded without a word, Tina paying for both. Though the bus was empty save for two teenagers riding in the back, Tina remained standing, swaying with the bus’s movement as she gripped a pole. As Cassandra sank into the bus’s hard seat, weariness stole over her. Somehow, a day of sitting around doing nothing was just as exhausting as a day spent playing music and partying. <em> Or maybe it’s all that music and partying catching up to me. </em></p><p>       The laundromat where Cassandra and Tina eventually disembarked struck Cassandra as seedy and unwelcoming, but she suspected that was the vibe that all laundromats exuded when visited in the evening. She followed Tina inside, the laundry bag weighing down her aching shoulder. Only one other patron was inside, but to call her a patron seemed a stretch, as she loitered near an unused machine. Cassandra wouldn’t have paid her any mind, had she not suddenly accosted Tina.</p><p>      “Please, ma’am…” The woman’s voice teetered on the edge of desperation, her palms held up as if in supplication. “My clothes are in the washer, and I ran out of quarters… I just need to dry them and go home…”</p><p>       “Of course,” Tina said, entirely unruffled. She dug through her pockets, before handing some change to the woman. “Here you go.”</p><p>        “Thank you so much, ma’am.” The woman snatched up the money and returned to the washer while Tina continued on her way. Cassandra trailed after her. When she was sure the woman was out of earshot, she murmured, “That was kind of you.”</p><p>       Tina dismissed the comment with a shake of the head as she set her suitcase down in front of a washer. “Always a good idea to pick up loose change. You never know who’ll need it.”</p><p>       Cassandra set her bag down too, at the washer beside Tina’s. She opened her purse and sifted through it, searching for the rolls of coins that she’d stocked up on the night before leaving Aurora. Something seemed strikingly familiar about Tina’s actions- but what? Then, just as she happened across her laundry reserve, it hit her.</p><p>      “Leigh does the same thing,” she said. “She gives her change to people.”</p><p>      Tina laughed as she deposited her quarters into the washer. “Where do you think she got it from?”</p><p>       She lifted her suitcase and began to unload it, while Cassandra mused over her words. Thinking of Leigh made her chest ache, and yet now that she’d returned to her mind, she was all Cassandra could focus on. She struggled to shake off the memories, mechanically depositing her coins and transferring items into the washer one by one. </p><p>       <em> T-shirt… into the washing machine. Underwear… into the washing machine. Dress… into the washing machine. </em>Ordinarily Cassandra would have cared to separate lights and darks, and the boys’ clothes from her own, but it was a light load to begin with, and besides, as the tour went on, it seemed to matter less and less. As Cassandra poured in the detergent, Tina finished with her load. She sat down on the bench, while Cassandra searched for a topic of conversation that had nothing to do with Leigh as an individual. It didn’t take long. </p><p>       “So how did you meet Supermarine, anyway?”</p><p>       Tina uncrossed her legs and took stock of the laundromat before replying. “We met at a benefit show for trans and queer youth that my wife and I organized. I hadn’t seen them play, but one of the bands I was friends with vouched for them. They approached me about managing them after the show, and… the rest is history.” She spread her arms out to indicate <em> the rest</em>.</p><p>       “You’re married?” Cassandra asked. <em> To a woman? </em></p><p>“Almost twenty years,” Tina replied.</p><p>       “But--” Cassandra bit her tongue, trying to figure out the most delicate way to phrase her question. “If you’ll pardon my asking, where--? When--?”</p><p>       “Well.” Tina leaned forward. “We married before I started transitioning.”</p><p>       <em> “Oh.” </em>The pieces added up in a flash. “Does that mean you’re…” It was hard to find the right words. “Is that legal over here?" </p><p>       Tina shrugged. “What the law says doesn’t matter. In my heart, she’s still my wife, and I’m still hers.” She stretched out her arms, patting a spot on the bench beside her. “What about you, Cassandra? You’ve never toured before?”</p><p>       “No.” Cassandra came to sit beside Tina, preparing to rehash her life story. Sometimes it seemed as if she’d done nothing but explain herself since the day she joined Supermarine’s tour, and yet, there were some aspects of herself that remained a mystery, even to her. Perhaps Tina would understand. </p><p>       “My band was signed to Sharp Records after Frank Sharp saw us play on local access television. We were supposed to go into the studio this summer… we made some demos for them last year… but we decided to tour instead.” Cassandra shook her head, blowing air out of her cheeks. “That didn’t turn out so hot.”</p><p>       “What made you decide to tour?” Tina asked. “You had support in other towns?”</p><p>       “Really, it was my ex…" Cassandra side-eyed Tina. "He pushed for us to tour. Booked all the places himself. He knows America a lot better than I do, but I’m catching up quickly.” She smiled, hiding her true emotions. Talking about Wayne was hardly any better than talking about Leigh, and yet too often lately her conversations had come down to one or the other. </p><p>       “Good for you.” Tina smiled back. “You and the boys have certainly done well for yourselves.”</p><p>       “It’s all thanks to you,” Cassandra insisted. “You really saved our asses back in LA. I know it is not easy to take a chance on a baby band, especially one that you hadn’t heard before, so it means a lot to us.”</p><p>       “Oh, please,” Tina said. “When Leigh vouched for you, I knew you had to be something special. If there’s anyone’s gut instinct I trust, it’s Leigh’s. Besides, I wouldn’t have a career if I never took chances.”</p><p>       Cassandra smoothed her hair back. “Like with Supermarine?” As much as she didn’t want to be reminded of Leigh, the prospect of getting to know the band from another perspective was riveting. She felt she had a pretty fair handle on their personalities, but it was worthwhile to hear what their manager had to say.</p><p>       “Supermarine is an exception,” Tina said lightly. “They blow me away every time they perform. It’s been a wonderful opportunity to tour with them this go-around.”</p><p>       Vestiges of the band’s history, as told by Leigh, welled up in Cassandra’s mind. “Did you meet them before or after they opened for Wyld Stallyns?”</p><p>       “Oh, I <em> got </em>them that show,” Tina replied. “If it hadn’t been for that, I don’t think a label like Studio X would have sat up and taken notice. In a way, it’s been both a blessing, and a curse.”</p><p>       Cassandra’s brow furrowed. “How is it a curse?”</p><p>       “Well, it’s… difficult to have that kind of pressure placed on you, so early in your career. I’m sure you’ve felt the same since you signed with Sharp Records.” Cassandra sensed that there was more Tina wasn’t telling her, but she didn’t press for more information, figuring that was between herself and the band. </p><p>       "I don't... I don't feel pressure, exactly," Cassandra confessed. "I want us to be the best that we can be, and... it means a lot that Frank Sharp took notice. But..." Swallowing, she tried to shape her thoughts more concisely. "He's not the one I care about impressing."</p><p>       "Who do you want to impress?" Tina said quietly, calmly.</p><p>       Cassandra frowned. <em>Who DO I want to impress? </em>Impressing others had gotten her nowhere in the past. All it ever led to was endless fawning- on the parts of Wayne and concertgoers and, quite possibly, Leigh- and assertions that <em>"I love your band!" </em>when what was really meant was <em>"I want your body!" </em>And yet... Leigh had told Cassandra not to dim her light. And Cassandra was growing tired of hiding.</p><p>       "I don't know," she finally admitted. "Myself, I guess."</p><p>       Tina hummed through her nose in what Cassandra thought might be affirmation. "It's always a good idea to be your own best audience. If you're not pleasing yourself, there's no point."</p><p>       Her words were worth mulling over, but Cassandra  didn't have the time. "Were you in a band before?"</p><p>       “I've fooled around with guitar and keys in the past, but I was never good enough to make it my career," Tina explained. "Working with Supermarine has been educational for both of us. They've had a lot to teach me. Booked two national tours on their own before they ran into me.”</p><p>      “I know,” Cassandra said. “Leigh told me all about it.”</p><p>       Tina nodded. “It’s hard for me to say which one of them has done the most for the band. Not long ago, I would have said Tamanna, because without her, the band loses much of its forward momentum. But she can't move forward without Sara, because Sara puts the wind in her sails. And Leigh and Haley have really come into their own recently. They've contributed more to the band than I ever thought they'd feel confident enough to. It's been fascinating to watch them grow, and I'm honored to play even the smallest part in it."</p><p>       “You’re proud of them,” Cassandra said. </p><p>       “Yes.” Carefully, Tina stood up and brushed down her jeans. “Who wouldn’t be?”</p><p>       Cassandra stood up too, grabbing her bottle of laundry detergent. “I can see why. They are an amazing band, and I’ve enjoyed getting to know them.” A fleeting thought occurred to her. Perhaps if she spoke highly of the band, Tina would mention her praise to Leigh, and Leigh would be interested in mending fences. But Tina didn’t respond, instead heading for the laundromat’s entrance.</p><p>       “Come on, let’s go and see what your bandmates are in the mood for dinner-wise.”</p><p>       “Don't even bother asking,” Cassandra promptly replied. “Nine times out of ten, it's pizza or Chinese.” She slipped out onto the street, the door falling shut behind her. With it, a door fell shut on Cassandra’s thoughts of Leigh as well.</p><p>*</p><p>       The next morning, Cassandra slouched in her seat on the bus, poring over the conversation that she and Tina had had the night before. Part of her longed to join Tina up front and continue with what they’d discussed, but Tina’s eyes were closed and her headphones were on, a fierce guitar riff bleeding through from her Walkman. Although she’d succeeded in pushing Leigh from her mind for the rest of the night, two points of the conversation kept repeating on Cassandra- Tina's pride in Supermarine, and her marriage. Or really, marriage in general. Countless times throughout her life, Cassandra had envisioned herself garbed in red, standing before the wedding's officiant with the man of her dreams. Even after moving to the United States, putting herself through college, and forming Crucial Taunt, the dream hadn’t really changed- it had simply become more distant. <em>Someday, </em>she’d told her college boyfriend, kickstarting the gradual cooldown of their relationship until they’d settled on a mutual split right before senior year. <em>Someday, </em>she’d reminded herself when she’d first begun seeing Wayne, before her rising star had driven a wedge between them. In both instances, Cassandra had assumed that she’d be available for marriage once her ambition took her where she needed to go. But the recording contract she’d scored and the tour she’d jumped onto did little to quell her drive. There was always <em>more, </em>looming like a mountain before her, and the longer Cassandra contemplated it, the more flexible her childhood dreams seemed. Marrying anyone now seemed an insurmountable task. But after hearing Tina discuss her feelings for her wife, legal documentation seemed like less of a necessity. All Cassandra really needed was a teammate, someone who nurtured her soul as she nurtured theirs. The only question was where to find one, and whether it was worth looking for one so soon after her break-up with Wayne. </p><p>      “Fuck you, marry Cassandra, kill myself.” The sound of Cassandra’s name drew her attention to a few seats down, where George, Anthony, and Haley sat together. Her legs splayed out across the empty seat beside her, Haley put a hand to her mouth. “Whoa!” </p><p>       “Excuse me?” Cassandra poked her head up from the seat, focusing on George’s wide eyes. “Why are you marrying me?” <em> It’s like he read my mind…  </em></p><p>       “It’s this stupid game,” George sighed. </p><p>       “Hey, c’mon,” Cassandra heard Anthony say from his seat beside George. “It’s fun.” There was a carefree note in his voice, a far cry from the pessimism he’d displayed the last few days. Cassandra wondered if he’d noticed that she and Leigh had stopped speaking to each other. <em> About time the guy loosened up… but at what cost? </em></p><p>“All right,” Haley said happily. “Your turn.”.</p><p>       Anthony waved his hand. “Skip me. Why don’t we ask Cass?” </p><p>      “Okay!” Haley agreed, before Cassandra could protest. “Um… <em> Ohhh. </em>Fuck-marry-kill: Leigh, Anthony, and… Tina.”</p><p>       “Oh my god,” George chuckled, while Anthony glanced over at Cassandra, his features molded into a threatening squint. “Choose <em> carefully, </em>or you might be out of a drummer.”</p><p>“See, that’s why I added Leigh,” Haley explained, “‘cause if she kills you, Leigh can take your place.”</p><p>      George guffawed again, but Cassandra didn’t find anything funny in the game. Silly though it was, she wasn’t keen on choosing between Anthony and Leigh for <em> anything. </em> She stared down the aisle, wondering if Leigh was listening and if she’d take offense over anything Cassandra said.</p><p>       “C’mon, Cassandra,” Anthony said, after Cassandra had hesitated for one second too long. “It’s not rocket science.”</p><p>      <em> Oh, god. </em>Cassandra took a deep breath. “All would be equally unpleasant.”</p><p>      “OHHHH!” The bus erupted into laughter and clapping- causing Leigh to turn her head. At first Cassandra thought she hadn’t heard her, but the hard stare she received proved that Leigh had heard more than Cassandra had wanted her to.</p><p>       “What’s going on?” she said.</p><p>       “Oh my <em> god.” </em>Haley jumped from her seat, laughing helplessly. “Cassandra just said--” She rushed down the aisle to where Leigh was seated, while Cassandra bit her tongue, trying to keep her face from burning. It was hard to see from her vantage point, but as far as she could tell, Leigh wasn't happy with Haley's explanation.</p><p>       “If you’re going to keep playing this game, can you leave my name out of it?” Tina’s voice floated through the bus. “Thank you.”</p><p>       “Sorry!” Haley practically skipped back to her seat, heedless of the bus’s swaying beneath her. Her blue eyes danced as she gazed upon Cassandra. “So, was that a burn on everyone, or a compliment?”</p><p>       “George was right,” Cassandra said, ignoring the question. “This game is stupid.”</p><p>       “Hey, Cassandra, don’t take it so personally.” The bus seat cracked as Anthony seemingly adjusted himself. “C’mon, Haley. What about you vs. me, George, and Marc?”</p><p>       “Um…” Haley plopped back down into her seat, her face dropping. “Never mind.”</p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>       <em> “And the man in the back said ‘everyone attack,’ and it turned into a ballroom blitz! And the boy in the corner said ‘boy, I wanna warn ya, it’ll turn into a ballroom blitz!’ Ballroom blitz!” </em> Cassandra passively watched eyes pop within the crowd, oblivious to their screams of joy. Her fingers moved fluidly across the neck of the bass as Anthony’s drums came in. “<em>Ballroom blitz! </em>” she yelled in unison with Marc and George, whose eyes were fixed to her as they waited for their cue. After two bars, the guitars came back in as Cassandra wailed wordlessly, her face scrunching up.  Predictably, the crowd roared. Long hair went flying, and Cassandra even heard a bottle break. She shook her own hair out, taken slightly aback. The clientele at the Lion’s Lair were certainly rowdier than she’d expected. </p><p>       “Thank you!” she called at the end of the song, amidst cheers and waves from her bandmates to the audience. “We’re Crucial Taunt, from Aurora, Illinois! We’ll be at the merch table if you want anything!” Despite her onstage energy, dissatisfaction rippled through her. Something felt <em> off </em> about tonight<em>, </em> had been off for the entire show. There was nothing wrong with what Crucial Taunt had played, but Cassandra craved a shot in the arm. <em> Maybe we should change up the set, so we’re not playing the same thing night after night. </em> Or maybe she shouldn’t say a word, because her bandmates seemed perfectly happy. <em> Get out of your goddamn head, Cassandra.  </em></p><p>       Denver certainly seemed to love rock music, because the Lion’s Lair was packed. This was the hottest show that Crucial Taunt had done in ages- in more ways than one. Sweat poured down Cassandra’s face as she slipped through the crowd, half-drenched. It took her an awfully long time to reach the bar, because more and more concertgoers kept approaching her to inquire as to her music. Their enthusiasm was flattering, but only a few minutes of schmoozing left Cassandra feeling wrung out. She left her bandmates to deal with the gaggle of brand-new fans and sauntered off to grab a gin and tonic, and a towel. </p><p>       While Cassandra had been occupied with the crowd, Supermarine had taken the stage. The jagged riff that opened “Goldilocks” filled the air just as she reached the bar. On one level, the sound relieved Cassandra, as it gave her a good excuse to rest her voice and not hold a conversation. But at the same time, a stone grew in the pit of her stomach. As Cassandra watched Sara bop around to the beat, her gaze drifted to the one providing it. She’d managed to avoid Leigh all day- not a difficult feat when Leigh was avoiding her- but now she couldn’t escape, unless she stepped outside. </p><p>       Tonight, Supermarine’s exuberance could hardly be contained, particularly Sara’s. Every moment when she wasn’t singing, a face-splitting smile would consume her, widening with each cry from the audience. Simultaneously, Haley and Tamanna gave Sara a run for her money, rocking out on their instruments as if they were shooting a music video. Leigh, however, was a blank slate as she played, indicating neither joy nor sadness. She didn’t acknowledge the audience or even her bandmates until Sara called out, “This next one features our drummer, Leigh!”</p><p>       <em> Great. </em> Cassandra gulped down her gin and tonic. <em> Just the song to lift my spirits. </em>Still, it was a song that she loved, and maybe it would afford a window into Leigh’s soul. At the last show that Supermarine had performed, Cassandra had hung with Marc at the merch table, but now she was prepared to hear Leigh sing again.</p><p>       The song began as it always did, Leigh bashing out a casual, mechanical beat while Tamanna’s guitar chimed, Haley swayed, and Sara sat to the side of the stage with the microphone in her hand, gazing happily at her cousin. There was the usual hesitation in Leigh’s voice, as if she wasn’t sure she was singing the right words, even though she’d written them. But as the song soared into its chorus, Haley and Tamanna singing wordless background “<em>ahhs” </em>while Sara harmonized on the first half of every sentence, Leigh unleashed the kind of vocal power that Cassandra had heard her use at the park back in Oakland.</p><p>      <em> “I try to push myself away, but it’s just gravity. And still I wish there was a way to bring you back to me. The more I try, the more you’re on my mind, and I wish you were still mine, Emily.” </em></p><p> The song quieted back into the verse, and Leigh’s voice grew quieter too. She squeezed her eyes shut, a shudder rippling through her and revealing itself in her voice. <em> “I’m packing my stuff and folding my clothes. You don’t have to say that you told me so.” </em> She bit the inside of her cheek, half-swallowing the words, but they still escaped her, as if she were powerless not to sing. <em> “Sure, you took me for a fool, but I followed every rule. Emily, my love, here’s to you.” </em></p><p>When the chorus came around again, Leigh forced the words past the lump in her throat that Cassandra could only assume was growing. Her voice cracked, complimenting the guitar’s harsh downstrokes on each quarter note. Cassandra watched intently, her drink abandoned, a growing sense of unrest in her chest. The first time she’d seen Supermarine perform “Emily,” Leigh had been crying, but somehow this performance felt even more raw. Leigh wasn’t even making an effort to compose herself, her energy primal as she pounded the drums. From the side of the stage, Sara’s admiration turned into obvious concern, but she didn’t stop harmonizing with Leigh until the end.</p><p>       <em> “The more I try, the more you’re on my mind. I did my best, but you put me to the test. I’m tearing at the seams, and I still see you in my dreams. Goodbye, my Emily… goodbye.” </em></p><p> Finally Leigh opened her eyes, gazing at the audience in distress. Tears poured down her face, her hands shaking, so that Cassandra wondered how she still managed to grip her drumsticks. <em> “Goodbye,” </em> she whispered, singing solo, as the song faded out. “ <em> Goodbye. Good--” </em>She hardly waited for the song to end before jumping to her feet, throwing the drumsticks down, and walking off the side of the stage, to the shock of her bandmates.</p><p>       <em> Leigh… </em> Cassandra watched, equally startled, as Leigh surged through the baffled audience, heading straight for the venue’s entrance. She glanced back at the remaining members of Supermarine, who stood dumbfounded. <em> Come on… Why aren’t they going to help her? </em> Sara got up to whisper in Tamanna’s ear, and from the look on her face, Cassandra figured her words had to be urgent. But to her surprise, instead of announcing that the show was over, Sara returned to the center of the stage and placed her microphone on its stand. Catching Haley’s eyes, Tamanna mouthed a song title and nodded four times, before launching into a brand new riff. A palpable sense of confusion rolled through the room, including Cassandra. <em> Are they really going to finish their set before they go and comfort her?? </em>The song was as tight as ever, even without drums, but the smile on Sara’s face had vanished, and not a single person cheered.</p><p>       All Cassandra could do was replay the last few moments over and over in her head. Clearly, Supermarine felt they had a responsibility to satiate their fans, before dealing with whatever Leigh was going through. But Cassandra had no such hang-ups. Jumbled words ran through her mind- <em> you’re a star… I’ll always be here… I thought we were doing pretty well… </em>At once, she got up from her seat.</p><p>       So what if Anthony didn’t want her to collaborate with others outside the band. So what if Leigh’s feeling for Cassandra were not strictly platonic. All Cassandra knew was that she never should have cut Leigh off, and if no one else was going to check up on her, Cassandra would gladly fill that role.</p><p>       A few people lounging at the back of the venue tried to stop Cassandra and entangle her in an endless shower of compliments, but Cassandra managed to extricate herself quickly. She walked out into the warm summer night. A few more people hung around the entrance, glowing cigarettes in hand, but Cassandra didn’t pay them any mind. Only one person registered on her radar. <em> Has she gone back to the bus? </em>In search of Leigh, Cassandra began to stroll down the sidewalk- only to stop when the person for whom she was searching melted from the shadows between streetlights.</p><p>      “Leigh?” Cassandra drew closer, to confirm it really was her, but she didn’t try to go any further. Leigh stared blankly back, wiping her eyes and radiating <em> don’t fuck with me </em>vibes.</p><p>      “What do you want?” she finally croaked.</p><p>      “I just wanted to see if you were…” Cassandra came forward, her arms out, but Leigh backed away. “Don’t touch me. Please.”</p><p>       “I’m sorry!” Cassandra pulled away. “Is there anything you need?”</p><p>       “Yeah,” Leigh whispered, her voice breaking. “I need you to <em> leave me alone.” </em> She turned aside, placing a hand on her chest and sucking in a deep breath, as if trying to calm her rapidly-beating heart.</p><p>       Cassandra wavered, unsure of what to do. If Leigh really wanted her to go, she could go… but it didn’t feel right leaving her here on her own, not when Leigh had refused to leave Cassandra back in Portland. Then an idea struck her. True to Leigh’s wishes, she turned away without a word, heading for the bus. <em> Sure, Leigh, I’ll leave… but that doesn’t mean I won’t come back. </em></p><p>       The bus was deserted when Cassandra hopped aboard. Even its driver, Ricky, must have gone inside to see the show. Down the aisle Cassandra surged, past the black curtain and the bunk beds. Two days ago she’d left her recent music store purchases in a bag with her luggage, and she hadn’t thought to take them out until now. She grabbed the bag and left the bus.</p><p>       Leigh was still standing right where Cassandra had left her, as if in suspended animation. Mindful of Leigh’s request for no physical contact, Cassandra cleared her throat to announce her presence. She met Leigh’s puzzled, wary eyes.</p><p>       “Leigh, I know things have been… weird, lately. I thought… I’d like to apologize. And I’d like you to have this.” She reached into the bag and took out the Lita Ford record, holding it up so Leigh could see it.</p><p>       Leigh’s face shifted. At first Cassandra thought she was on the verge of a smile, but then her expression hardened into a stony glare.</p><p>       “Seriously?” She spat the word as if it were a nasty dose of medicine. </p><p>      Cassandra lowered the record. “I thought you would like it…”</p><p>      <em> “Seriously?” </em>All traces of Leigh’s previous misery fled. Her mouth curved downwards into an ugly sneer. “I don’t need you to pity me, Cassandra.”</p><p>      “I’m <em> not</em>,” Cassandra blurted. “Leigh, I never meant to hurt you—“</p><p>      “Yeah, but you kind of <em> did, </em>though.” A harsh bark of laughter escaped Leigh. She folded her arms across her chest. “You don’t get to feel sorry for me just to make yourself feel better.”</p><p>       “But I care about you,” Cassandra insisted, feeling as if a trapdoor was about to open beneath her feet any second. “I think you’re an amazing person, and I shouldn’t have—“</p><p>      “Don’t even bother,” Leigh cut Cassandra off. “Just stay away.” She departed from the sidewalk, rushing off towards the bus as if she were late to an appointment. Cassandra stood alone in her wake, forlornly clutching the record she’d bought. She wanted to call out to Leigh, to lay it all on the line. She wanted to tell Leigh how captivated she was when watching Supermarine perform. She wanted to tell her how much she’d needed her support those first few weeks on the road. She wanted to tell her how grateful she was for her sense of humor and goodwill, how her smile lit up Cassandra’s entire day with sunshine. And if that meant that she was falling for Leigh, well… let her fall.</p><p>       But her lips didn’t move, and in a second, Leigh was gone. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Coming up next: Cassandra seeks advice on her recent troubles from her bandmates, who are more than happy to share- though whether Cassandra is happy to hear from them is a different story.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Stasis</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Several tour dates go by, and with them, Cassandra attempts to talk to her bandmates about her problems.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>       Though Cassandra was the first one at breakfast the next morning, her solitude didn’t last long. Just as she was raising a spoonful of instant oatmeal to her lips, Haley came marching up to the table, her blue eyes like chips of ice. Her uncharacteristic lack of a smile immediately put Cassandra on edge. </p><p>       “Hey.” The word was spat out as a pointed remark. Feeling like an actor who hadn’t memorized their lines, Cassandra ventured a befuddled, “Yes?”</p><p>      With little warning, Haley slammed both palms on the table. She leaned in, as if she were about to share a secret, but her voice didn’t soften.</p><p>       “I’m warning you, if you ever make Leigh cry again, I’m kicking your ass. I don’t care that you know karate or whatever. You hurt her, you pay for it.”</p><p>       <em> What? </em>Cassandra nearly dropped her spoon into the oatmeal. Did Haley think that Leigh’s breakdown onstage the night before had to do with something Cassandra had said? What had Leigh told her? “I’m sorry, I don’t--”</p><p>       “You heard me.” With that, Haley straightened up and bustled off, leaving Cassandra swimming in a growing sea of anxiety. <em> If you ever make Leigh cry again... </em>What was Haley trying to say? She felt she ought to be worried about the threat, but the amount of questions bubbling up inside her promptly drowned out any legitimate concerns. </p><p>       Haley, however, did not seem keen on explaining herself. The instant her food was in hand, she left the dining hall. If she’d turned up her nose while walking past Cassandra’s table, it wouldn’t have been surprising. Eventually Cassandra’s bandmates came to join her, as did Tamanna, Sara, and even Tina, but Leigh was nowhere to be found. Cassandra didn’t spy her until boarding the bus later that morning, and even then, Leigh refused to look Cassandra’s way.</p><p><em>       Cold shoulder treatment, again. </em>This time, Cassandra knew she deserved it. </p><p>*</p><p>       After leaving Denver, the Supermarine-Crucial Taunt tour of ‘93 began clipping by at a breakneck pace. Which was ironic, because the gaps between shows were longer, taking into account the amount of time it took to traverse the country. Cassandra suspected that Tina had specifically scheduled plenty of downtime, allowing for both bands to thoroughly decompress and ground themselves. However, for Cassandra, the unplanned days were torture. When unoccupied, nothing kept her mind from dwelling upon the fact that neither Leigh nor Haley were speaking to her any longer, and how badly she wished one of them- a <em> specific </em> one <em> - </em>would. </p><p>       Several weeks ago, right when the joint tour was taking off, Cassandra hadn’t been able to enjoy herself because she was still moping over Wayne. And here she was, moping again, all because of Leigh. <em> This is total bullshit! </em> By all rights Cassandra should be having the time of her life, exploring America and playing to hot crowds. But ever since Leigh had gotten into her head and heart, she couldn’t keep her away. She knew full well that she’d gotten too close to Leigh too soon, but <em> close to Leigh </em>was exactly where she wanted to be, for better or worse.</p><p>       All Cassandra wanted was to be able to pour her troubles out to someone, but she wasn’t sure if she had anyone to turn to. Both Leigh and Haley were obviously out of the question, and Cassandra feared that Sara and Tamanna wouldn’t judge the situation accurately. <em>Who knows what Leigh's told them about me?</em> Briefly she considered talking to Tina, who’d certainly made herself approachable that night at the laundromat, but she had so much on her plate that Cassandra felt asking for advice would be pestering. That only left Cassandra’s bandmates, but merely imagining that mountain of a conversation made her want to shake. Anthony would probably congratulate Cassandra for pushing Leigh away. And Cassandra couldn't imagine explaining her strong connection with Leigh to the rest of the boys. Not when she was still trying to figure it out herself. This was entirely new territory for Cassandra, and the thought of involving others on her journey of self-discovery terrified her to the bone.</p><p>       After Denver, the next stop of the tour was in Austin, of which Tina had spoken fondly in regards to its welcoming music scene. Rather than explore, however, Cassandra chose to stay in that night, lying in her bunk with her headphones on. The itinerary that Tina had written up several days ago lay on her stomach, set aside after minutes of studious re-reading. <em> Six shows down, seven to go. </em>If the double-header at CBGB was counted as one stop, they were already halfway through the tour. Cassandra hoped beyond all hope that this would give her enough time to turn her misfortune around- if she could only figure out how to do so. </p><p>       A head popped out from behind the black curtain. “Hey, Cassandra.”</p><p>       Sitting up in her bunk, Cassandra set her tape player aside. “Hey, Marc.”</p><p>       Marc gave a short bob of the head. “You wanna come hang out in the girls’ room? We’re watching the Spinal Tap documentary.”</p><p>       “No thanks,” Cassandra muttered. “I’ve already seen it about a hundred times.”</p><p>       Marc nodded. “Can you believe the girls have never seen it?”</p><p>      Cassandra gave a half-hearted shrug, unwilling to continue the conversation. In theory, hanging out at the hotel sounded very nice, but she didn’t think she had the mental energy to be in close proximity to Leigh or Haley. As her thoughts turned to Haley, she suddenly wondered if Marc knew anything of what had gone on between herself and Leigh, given how much time he and Haley had been spending together lately. That in turn led to her wondering how much <em> Haley </em> knew, and her head began to throb.</p><p>      As Marc watched Cassandra ponder, a frown fell across his face. He came up to Cassandra’s bunk and knelt down beside her. “Is something wrong?”</p><p>       Surprise flickered through Cassandra. Not only was Marc the most laid-back member of Crucial Taunt, but he was also the spaciest, only communicating with planet Earth when it was absolutely necessary. He was the best kind of person to have on tour- the guy who came in, did the work, and got out, without any hangups. But on a personal level, he and Cassandra rarely communicated. It unnerved Cassandra to think that she might have unintentionally pulled her entire band under the black raincloud that hung above her.</p><p>        “No, I…” Cassandra’s eyes drifted to the crumpled itinerary beside her. At once, her resolve gave out. <em> Who cares what side Marc takes. </em> She had to talk to <em> someone. </em></p><p>“Actually, yeah. Something’s wrong.”</p><p>       “What is it?”  </p><p>       Cassandra sighed, blowing air out of her cheeks. “It’s just… what if you met someone on tour, someone you really care about… and in a few more weeks, you’ll be saying goodbye to them, and you haven’t even told them how you felt because you don’t think they would listen?”</p><p>       In a flash, Marc’s eyes grew wide. He threw a sharp glance over first one shoulder, then the other, before leaning in. His voice came out in a fierce whisper. </p><p>       “How did you know?”</p><p>      “What?”</p><p>       Marc’s eyes were frantic. “Who told you that Haley and I are sleeping together?”</p><p>       Cassandra’s brow furrowed. “<em>You </em>just did, right now!”</p><p>       “Oh.” Marc’s thoughts played out on his face as he mentally rewound the conversation. “But… how’d you <em> know?” </em></p><p>Although she fought to remain polite, Cassandra couldn’t help letting out an incredulous laugh. “Marc, everyone knows you have a thing for Haley. It’s not exactly a secret.”</p><p>       “Oh.” Again Marc seemed to flip backward, searching for the point when he could have spilled the beans. When presumably nothing emerged, he rested his chin on his palm. “It’s <em> supposed </em>to be a secret.”</p><p>       This time Cassandra succeeded in holding in her laughter. <em> If that’s the case, they aren’t doing a very good job of keeping it. </em> “Why? None of us care if you’re dating Haley.” She tried to fill her voice with warmth. “She seems… nice.” <em> When she’s not threatening me over Leigh, that is. </em>“I’m sure you’re good for her.”</p><p>       “She doesn’t think her bandmates would agree.” Marc hummed dejectedly through his nose. “She thinks they’ll make fun of her.”</p><p>       Cassandra nodded, though she hoped Marc wouldn't think she was agreeing with the hypothetical. It wasn’t hard to imagine how someone like Marc could be perceived as unworthy of Haley’s attention. <em> As long as he doesn’t start believing it himself. </em>That was where Wayne had gone wrong. </p><p>      “So you’re actually sleeping together?”</p><p>      “We slept together,” Marc clarified. A smile lit his face. “It was nice. She’s dynamite.”</p><p>      “I didn’t ask.” Flopping down on her bunk, Cassandra smoothed her long hair out. It should have been comforting to hear that Marc was going through his own relationship problems with a member of Supermarine, but at the same time, Marc had completely missed the point of what she'd said. <em> Maybe he wasn’t the right one to open up to.  </em></p><p>       “I mean, she’s just… <em> so </em> great,” Marc enthused, apparently not noticing Cassandra’s brewing dissatisfaction. “And she really listens, and… she really <em> cares. </em>You saw how wasted she got in Portland?” He waited for Cassandra to nod before continuing. “She hasn’t had anything to drink since, ‘cause she thought it might upset me. She thinks I’m, like…” His eyes glazed over. “Her white knight, or something.”</p><p>      “Again.” Cassandra rolled onto her side to face Marc. “I didn’t ask.”</p><p>       Marc's brow furrowed. “You, uh… you sure you’re okay?”</p><p>      “I’m sorry.” Cassandra rubbed her eyes, regret spiraling through her. She hadn’t meant to shut down Marc’s excitement. “I’m… not feeling so great.”</p><p>       “Oh.” Marc’s face softened in sympathy. “Is it that time?”</p><p>       “What?”</p><p>      “Of the month?”</p><p>      Although Cassandra felt the assumption should needle her, she couldn’t find it in her because Marc was technically correct. It <em> was </em>that time of the month. “Sure.” </p><p>      “Oh,” Marc repeated. With a groan, he straightened back up to his feet. “Haley got this bag of Hershey kisses from the store yesterday. She'd probably share it with you if you asked. And Tamanna’s making herbal tea.”</p><p>       The clumsy yet sweet suggestions made the corner of Cassandra’s mouth turn up in a half-smile. “No, I just want to rest. But thanks.”</p><p>       “Okay.” Marc headed for the black curtain. “You know where we are if you change your mind.”</p><p>       “Thank you!” Cassandra called as he walked out. “I won’t tell anyone about you and Haley!”</p><p>      She didn’t receive a verbal response, but pictured Marc forming a thumb’s up and pumping his hand in the air. The mental image cheered her slightly. Right from the start, Haley had infatuated Marc, and Cassandra was truly happy to know that he’d gotten what he wanted. Now if only Cassandra could figure out what <em> she </em>wanted.</p><p>       She reached over and popped her headphones back on, hitting Play on the tape machine. A spirited voice trickled out of the tape and into her ears.</p><p>       <em> Sometimes I feel </em></p><p>
  <em>      I feel a little sad inside </em>
</p><p>
  <em>       When my baby mistreats me </em>
</p><p>
  <em>        I never, never, never have a place to hide </em>
</p><p>
  <em>        I need you, you you </em>
</p><p>
  <em>        I need you, you, you... </em>
</p><p>*</p><p>       Leigh didn’t break down during her performance of the song “Emily” in Austin. In fact, a robotic quality had entered her voice, as if she had completely cut off all emotion from the lyrics. All the same, Cassandra found herself straining to hear what she was missing, holding her breath every time Leigh happened to glance in her vicinity. When the show was over, she felt deflated for reasons on which she couldn't put a finger. And at the same time, embarrassment filled her for reasons that she could easily pinpoint.</p><p>       This desire for Leigh to notice her was absolutely <em> pathetic</em>. As if <em> she </em>wasn’t the one who’d caused all the problems in their relationship. But it went both ways, and now that Cassandra wanted to make up with Leigh, Leigh was pulling away. And the further she got from Cassandra physically, the more frequently she starred in Cassandra’s thoughts.</p><p>       <em> In that case… it really must be a crush. </em> </p><p>*</p><p>       After Austin, the bus sailed on towards Kansas City, Missouri. After two whole days in cramped quarters, Cassandra was relieved to finally set foot outside the tour bus, even if it was only to make an appointment at a local doctor’s office. Now that her earlobe had healed, the sutures needed to be removed, and Cassandra didn’t trust such a task to her bandmates. As it turned out, however, it was a bandmate who ended up accompanying her to the doctor’s. Tina had her hands full, so while Anthony and Marc busied themselves with setting up for the night’s performance, George was the one who took Cassandra into town. <em> How times have changed, </em> Cassandra thought as she settled down in the waiting room. Once upon a time, she and George had discussed writing songs during their alone time, but here they were hanging out at a doctor’s office instead. <em> Talk about a bonding moment.  </em></p><p>“I still wish I could have been there,” George commented as he sat down beside Cassandra. </p><p>       “Huh?”</p><p>       “At the bar, that night.” George chuckled. “I can’t believe I missed seeing you in action.”</p><p>       Carefully Cassandra reached up to finger the sutures in her ear. Part of her was glad to be done with it, while another part secretly hoped for a scar- a reminder of the night's events more indelible than a photograph.</p><p>       “You think it’s a good thing I beat up a bunch of strangers?” she said. </p><p>       “I dunno…” George reached up to scratch his head, his long locks falling into his face. “When you put it that way… it still sounds pretty awesome.”</p><p>       “Whatever you say.” Cassandra folded one leg over the other. “Between that, and… the thing with Wayne, I’m surprised that I haven’t been banned from Portland yet.”</p><p>       “Aw, c’mon.” Gently, George slung an arm around Cassandra’s shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze. “Don’t be so down on yourself. You did okay.”</p><p>       Cassandra said nothing, her gaze drifting to the drab gray wall in front of her. Truth be told, she was done beating herself up over her past mistakes. Both times that Crucial Taunt had hit Portland had resulted in events of which Cassandra was far from proud. But compared to what had happened between herself and Leigh, the guilt paled.</p><p>      After a while, George announced from out of the blue, “So I guess we’re almost done touring?”</p><p>       Cassandra’s gaze shifted back to George. “We still have plenty of stops left.”</p><p>       “I guess.” George smoothed back his wild mane of hair. “The South, then the East Coast, and then goodbye, Supermarine.” A sudden spark lit his eyes as he leaned towards Cassandra. “Do you think we should do something for them once the tour’s over? They’ve all been so nice to us.”</p><p>       Cassandra’s heart sank at the thought of parting from Supermarine, but she forced herself not to change the subject. “What were you thinking?” </p><p>       “I dunno...” George’s forehead wrinkled, his eyes taking on a faraway look. “We could buy them a flower arrangement… or we could throw a party.”</p><p>       <em> A party. </em>The prospect should have sounded enticing, but it only dampened Cassandra’s spirits further. None of her bandmates had any clue what was going on. They didn’t understand how badly Cassandra longed to patch up her relationship with Leigh, or why it needed patching up in the first place. As far as they knew, Cassandra was having a rockin’ good time on tour, just as they were. In that moment, all Cassandra wanted was to show the boys how wrong they were.</p><p>       “George,” Cassandra heard herself saying.</p><p>       “What?”</p><p>       Cassandra took a deep breath. “What if… I don’t want to say goodbye to Supermarine?”</p><p>       George stiffened, his gaze focusing. The alarm written across his face took Cassandra aback. She hadn’t expected to touch a nerve. <em> What, is George dating someone from Supermarine just like Marc? </em></p><p>       “Cassandra…” George hesitated, clearly unsure of what to say, before spitting it out in a mad rush. “Pleasedon’tquitourband.”</p><p>       <em> What? </em>Every avenue of possible conversation ran into a brick wall. Of all the things for George to have said…</p><p>        “Excuse me?”</p><p>       “Seriously!” Desperation flickered to life in George’s eyes. “I know you wrote that song with Leigh… but we need you with <em> us, </em>Cassandra. It’d take us forever to find a replacement with your talent.” He spread his hands out. “We might as well not replace you at all and call it a day!”</p><p>       “George…” Cassandra forced back a startled laugh. “What makes you think I want to quit the band?”</p><p>       “I- I dunno.” The frantic excitement in George’s eyes gradually drained away. Slowly he uncoiled in his seat, as if suddenly aware of his surroundings. “I… I guess when you played us that song, and… well, Anthony was talking the other day, and… I got worried. You’re not going to join their band, are you?”  </p><p>       At that, Cassandra couldn’t hold her laughter in. “What, you think Haley isn’t good enough to play bass for them?”</p><p>       “Well, no…” George began, then: “Well, yes…”</p><p>       Shaking her head in fond exasperation, Cassandra laid her hand on George's arm. “I don’t want to play bass for Supermarine, George. I don’t want to sing for them, either. There’s only one band I want to be in.”</p><p>       George adopted a confused look. “Which is?”</p><p>       “Our band!” Cassandra let go of George’s arm. “There’s no one else I’d rather share a stage with than you, Marc, and Anthony.”</p><p>       <em> “Ohhh.” </em>The confusion in George’s eyes transitioned into palpable relief. “Same here. You know I wouldn’t trade you for anyone.” He broke into a warm smile, which Cassandra returned. </p><p>       For a few moments, they sat together, unspeaking, until George asked, “So… why don’t you want to say goodbye to Supermarine?”</p><p>       Cassandra thumbed her lower lip, mulling it over. Despite George’s tendency to miss the point by several miles, she couldn’t keep her internal conflict locked up forever. <em> Might as well talk to him… </em> She opened her mouth. </p><p>       “Leigh and I--”</p><p>       “Cassandra Wong?” A nurse had appeared in the doorway. “We’re ready for you.”</p><p>       Immediately Cassandra shot to her feet, her anticipation dissolving. George handed her purse over.</p><p>        “Good luck,” he urged. “Or is it… break a leg?”</p><p>       Cassandra couldn’t help but chuckle. “If I break a leg, this is the best place to be.” She headed off through the doorway, following the nurse’s path and tracing the sutures in her ear as she did so.</p><p>*</p><p>       Another long day of travel turned into another long night of travel. For the third night in a row, Cassandra retired early, curling up under the covers in the empty back of the bus. The motion of the tires on the road had been soothing for the first few nights, but lately she’d had more and more trouble falling asleep. Especially when her thoughts always came charging back to a particular line of questioning.</p><p>       <em> How long have I been attracted to women? Was I always this way? </em>Leigh had implied that she’d known from an early age, mentioning how she’d wanted to marry The Runaways. George, Anthony, and Marc had reminisced on childhood crushes before. And Cassandra, of course, had begun dating in secondary school, and never looked back. But those crushes had always been boys, later men, and she hadn’t thought to seriously pursue a relationship with anyone else. </p><p>       <em> “Ew,” </em> she’d said when she first came across the term <em> homosexual </em> at eight years old. For years, her feelings hadn't wavered, whenever she bothered to think about it. But looking back on her upbringing, Cassandra realized there had always been potential flashes- a classmate’s smile that made her feel warm inside, a held gaze that had lasted a second too long. Women wearing short skirts had always made her turn her head, because she might have only dated men but she wasn’t <em> blind. </em>All along, Cassandra had figured that was normal. It wasn’t wrong to celebrate a woman’s beauty. Back when traditional marriage was the goal, she’d easily dismissed any leanings towards women because it wasn’t relevant to her worldview.</p><p>       However, these feelings for Leigh were something completely new- and completely terrifying. What scared Cassandra the most was the <em> ease </em>behind it. She’d already chosen a fun-loving rock and roll lifestyle where she had no plans to become someone’s wife anytime soon. And now, her possible interest in women fit into such a lifestyle. She didn’t have to get married- she just wanted somebody to love. And it had taken this tour to get her to see that. </p><p>       <em> Am I becoming too American for my own good? </em></p><p>Tossing and turning, Cassandra finally managed to close her eyes- only for a soft voice to summon them back open. To her absolute shock and delight, Leigh stood before her, a gentle smile on her face.</p><p>       “Hey,” she said.</p><p>       “Hey…” Cassandra started to sit up, but Leigh hovered over her. Her hands landed on Cassandra’s shoulders, gently pressing her back down onto the mattress. Her closeness was sudden, but thrilling at the same time. Cassandra ceased to resist as Leigh angled her face towards hers, moving closer and closer until they were kissing and it was glorious and Cassandra never wanted it to end--</p><p>       Again Cassandra opened her eyes, to find herself washed in darkness. From the pounding noise overhead, she guessed that it was raining. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dark, for her ears to seek out the soft breaths of her nearby bandmates. Accustomed at last, she uncoiled her muscles and released a pent-up breath of her own.</p><p>       <em> Leigh. </em> There was no use in trying to fight it. She had feelings for Leigh, and Leigh almost certainly had feelings for her. <em>Now if</em> <em>only it were as simple as that. </em></p><p>*</p><p>       What little Cassandra knew of Nashville had convinced her that hard rock had no place in it, so she was pleasantly surprised to find that The End was no honky tonk or saloon. Tucked away in a dingy, spray-paint-covered nook, it was easily one of the smallest venues that Crucial Taunt had visited. Several weeks ago, The End might have pissed Cassandra off. <em> Even the Blue Heron Brewery was bigger than this place. </em>Now, however, she couldn’t summon the energy to care. </p><p>       “Are you really a guitarist if you don’t make the face?” George murmured as he gazed at a framed photo behind the bar of a band rocking the stage, the guitarist’s face curled up in a sneer and his eyes half-lidded. </p><p>       Languidly, Marc lifted his head from the pillow he’d made of his arms, his half-finished vodka with cranberry near his elbow. “Tamanna doesn’t make the face, and she’d smoke us any day.”</p><p>      “I’m surprised to hear <em> you </em>say that,” George commented, raising his eyebrows.</p><p>      Marc shrugged. “Y’know, I’m really not as stuck up as everyone thinks I am.”</p><p>       Though Cassandra was right beside Marc at the bar, only half of her brain was focused on the conversation. Tension filled her body, her muscles clenching and unclenching and her jaw set so firmly she thought she might wear down her teeth. Lately it felt like the entirety of her life was nothing more than a series of bus interiors, hotel rooms, and concert venues. At this moment, Cassandra wanted nothing more than to be free of it all, to step outside and feel the hot summer air on her face. </p><p>       “So the reason you don’t talk much… it’s not because you’re looking down on us?” George ventured, oblivious to Cassandra’s pent-up energy.</p><p>       Marc scoffed. “I don’t have anything to <em> say!” </em>He sat up straight and brushed his hair out of his eyes. “Are you mental? How long have we known each other?”</p><p>       <em> Blah, blah. </em> Cassandra eyed the clock on the wall behind the bar. An hour to showtime. <em> Not soon enough. </em> The desire to go find someone, anyone, even if it was just her remaining bandmate or someone from Supermarine, took hold of her. <em> Just calm down, go clear your head…  </em></p><p>       Marc’s voice intruded upon her thoughts. “We’ve been best friends for three years!”</p><p>       “Wait-- I’m your best friend?!” George cried. “I thought you and Garth--”</p><p>       “I’m going to the bathroom,” Cassandra announced. She jumped up from the barstool, paying no attention to Marc and George’s reaction. Once she'd blown through the club’s main doors and found herself by a gritty street littered with broken bottles, her heartbeat slowed, her nerves quelling as if she were a wet cloth that had just been wrung out. For a few minutes she stood there, savoring the evening air, until a voice sounded from nearby. </p><p>       “Hey.”</p><p>       Though she recognized the voice in an instant, Cassandra turned her head anyway. Just as she’d expected, Anthony leaned against the wall, a cigarette raised to his lips. Despite their fractious relationship, Cassandra found herself drawn to him. Though frankly, she would have taken anyone, as long as they weren’t Leigh.</p><p>       “What’s up?” Cassandra asked.</p><p>       Anthony shrugged. “You okay?” He tossed his cigarette to the ground and ground it to bits with his heel.</p><p>       <em> If only I knew how to answer that. </em> Why was everyone always leaping to conclusions about Cassandra’s mental state? Sure, she hadn’t exactly been in the happiest of moods for the past couple weeks, but she hadn’t thought it was <em> that </em>noticeable.</p><p>       “I’m… okay, I guess.” Cassandra settled back against the wall, mimicking Anthony’s pose. “This whole tour has been a madhouse. I guess it’s wearing on me.”</p><p>      “I hear ya.” Anthony scratched the back of his head, mussing up his thick, wavy hair. <em> Someone needs a haircut. We all do.  </em></p><p>       “Just remember… two more stops, then it’s CBGB, all the way.”</p><p>       Cassandra allowed herself a small smile. “I can’t wait.”</p><p>       “Yeah, same here.”</p><p>      They stood silently together, staring at the asphalt beneath their feet. Anthony opened a pack of cigarettes and held it out to Cassandra, but she declined with a raise of her hand. Though Anthony’s presence was comforting, she could feel her body tensing up again. Over the course of the last few tour stops, Cassandra had attempted to seek guidance from each of her bandmates, only for them to misunderstand her, or for her to be interrupted. Opening up to Anthony was hardly preferable, given that his words were what had kicked off the source of Cassandra’s misery. But dammit, she had no one else to whom she had a chance of getting through.</p><p>       “What are you going to do once the tour’s over?” she said.</p><p>       Anthony chuckled, pocketing his smokes. “Probably sleep for a week.”</p><p>      Cassandra raised her hand in weak, half-hearted agreement. “I mean, what do you want to do with the band?”</p><p>       There was no hesitation in Anthony’s response. “We keep going. Obviously. Try to get our album wrapped up, assuming we’ve still got enough money after this shebang.”</p><p>       Cassandra nodded, remembering that Crucial Taunt still had to cover the costs of damage to the Silver Bullet, and make back everything they’d spent on the road. After all that, the thought of going into the studio seemed exhausting. Nevertheless, she enjoyed the prospect of bringing to life the songs that she and the boys had perfected on tour. If there was anything that touring had done for Crucial Taunt, it was honing their performance skills to synergistic perfection. <em> Just let us decompress for a month before going back. </em></p><p>“Then we can sell our record at the merch table next time,” Cassandra said, trying to sound chipper.</p><p>      “That’s the spirit!” Anthony exclaimed. “And now that we know how to sell it, we won’t need to invite Wayne or Garth.”</p><p>       Heaviness descended over Cassandra. Though she no longer regretted kicking Wayne and Garth off the tour, dealing with a jealous boyfriend now seemed preferable to… whatever was going on between her and Leigh. If only she could have stopped her heart from forming a new bond so quickly. And if only she knew how to explain that bond in a way that wouldn’t sound phony to Leigh, or undesirable to her bandmates.</p><p>       As if he had picked up on Cassandra’s mood change, Anthony turned towards her. “Is it… okay that I said that?”</p><p>      Cassandra sighed. “You’re fine, Anthony.” With her toe, she scraped at the remainders of Anthony’s cigarette. “It feels like… it’s been years since they left.”</p><p>       “Yeah,” Anthony murmured. “It’ll be weird, once we get back to Aurora…” He fell silent, apparently afraid to dredge up a touchy subject, but Cassandra wasn’t thinking about Wayne and Garth anymore. It was Leigh’s face that rose up inside her mind, Leigh who begged her every day to make up her damn mind before she lost it.</p><p>       “What do you do…” Cassandra began, not meeting Anthony’s gaze. “Anthony, do you ever feel like you’re trapped in…” She couldn’t seem to find the right word.</p><p>       “Prison?” Anthony asked. “A cage? Stasis?”</p><p>      “What was that last one?”</p><p>      “Stasis,” Anthony repeated. “When you’re, uh… when you’re stuck and you can’t move, but it’s mental, not physical.”</p><p>       “Do you ever feel like you’re trapped in that way?” Cassandra said. “I mean…” She was reluctant to mention Leigh, but at least she could get halfway there. “Sometimes I feel like I’m playing chess, and I have to make a move- I <em> want </em>to make a move- but I don’t know if it’s the right one to make.”</p><p>       Anthony studied Cassandra’s face, searching her eyes for something unknown. “If it’s the move you want to make, wouldn’t that be the right one?”</p><p>       “I don’t know…” The image of Leigh in Cassandra’s mind grew more vivid. What she wanted was to approach Leigh, to tell her she was sorry and that she’d give anything just to speak with her again. But Leigh had rebuffed her attempt at doing so, and now Cassandra wasn’t even sure if it was worth it. So she remained in stasis, physically capable of taking the next step but mentally unsure.</p><p>        “I know what I want,” Cassandra said quietly, half-fearing Anthony’s response. “I just don’t know how to…” But what <em> did </em> she want, exactly? She wanted to be close with Leigh, but <em> how </em> close? After two more tour stops, she’d be leaving Leigh behind anyway. Was it possible to ask something so great of her? Was it possible to <em> receive </em>it?</p><p>       “Excuse me.” Cassandra stepped away from Anthony, staring down the nearby road. She focused on the vehicles parked across the street, trying to settle the storm in her soul. This constant questioning was eating away at her day and night, using up far too much of her mental energy. All she wanted was to put it behind her. But she couldn’t, not when Leigh was still beside her, physically distant but emotionally, still very much present.</p><p>       From behind Cassandra, she heard Anthony’s footsteps, but she didn’t react until he laid his hand on her shoulder.</p><p>        “Whatever you’re going through…” Cassandra could hear the hesitation in Anthony’s voice. This wasn’t the first time she’d been vulnerable around Anthony, but he clearly hadn’t gotten used to it. “You know you can talk to us, right?”</p><p>       Cassandra pursed her lips. Oh, how she wanted that to be true. Still, the sentiment touched her, and she spun around, smiling softly. Anthony smiled back, though concern still ringed his eyes. They had only one second to share the moment before the door to The End flew open, revealing the owner of the venue. “Hey, we’re opening the doors! Your band hits the stage in forty-five!”</p><p>       During the show, Cassandra gave her all to the captive audience. She strutted across the stage while the band pulled out all the stops, including some out-of-this-world soloing from Marc and several unique fills that Cassandra had never heard Anthony play before. But all the while, her eyes scanned the crowd, longing for the one person who hadn’t shown her face at a Crucial Taunt performance for eight straight days.</p><p>      <em> “I think of when I held you last </em></p><p>
  <em>       “Oh love, could you forget so fast? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>      “There’s a little bit of you in everything I do. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>        “‘Why you wanna break my heart? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>       “Why you wanna break my heart? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>       “Why you wanna break my heart? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>        “Why you wanna break my heart…” </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Coming up next: Cassandra chats with two important people, and begins to put things to right regarding her relationship with Leigh.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Independent Together</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Crucial Taunt and Supermarine end up in Atlanta, where Cassandra goes out with two members of Supermarine with whom she's rarely associated.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Posting this on a Tuesday, not a Friday, because I'm going out of town for the rest of the week. I missed a chapter last week also so I wanted to make up for that (even though I know no one is reading this).</p><p>Life has gotten EXTREMELY busy lately so updates might come more sporadically. There's still nine chapters I haven't edited yet.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>       “All right, folks.” Tina’s voice boomed from the front of the bus as she rose above the motley assemblage of touring musicians, bracing herself on a nearby seat. “We’ll be arriving in Atlanta in thirty minutes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       George grinned and punched his fist in the air. “I love the East Coast!”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>Thank god. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Cassandra slouched back in her seat, studying the cars as they blew by on the highway. The trip from Tennessee to Georgia had taken less than four hours. That left her with an entire day to cool down, hopefully physically as well as mentally.  What her bandmates had warned her about the American South turned out to be true- it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>sweltering </span>
  </em>
  <span>in the summertime.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Okay.” From the seat in front of Cassandra’s, Anthony put down the pencil on which he’d been chewing, his notepad in his lap. “Let’s see if I can figure out our budget for the rest of the tour in thirty minutes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Do you really need to do that now?” Cassandra asked. “We’ve got three more shows after Atlanta.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “I’m just taking precautions!” Anthony held up his hands. “I just need someone to look this over. Someone who’s good at math.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “If you even look my way,” Cassandra murmured, “I’ll drop-kick you through the window of this bus.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Here, let me.” Across the aisle, Haley extricated herself from the slumbering Marc’s arm and reached across him, her fingers clutching at thin air. Anthony scooted over to give her the pad and pencil. As soon as both items were in hand, Haley immediately set to work, scribbling fiercely and pausing to mouth numbers to herself. Once she’d filled both the front and back page, she handed the pad back to Anthony. “Here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Anthony scanned the paper, his brow furrowing. “This can’t be right. We didn’t make </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>much”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      “Well, it’d be a lot easier if I had a calculator...” Haley reached for the pad again, and Anthony acquiesced. With her pencil, Haley indicated certain parts of her calculations. “See, this is how much you’ve accumulated in terms of ticket sales. You receive half of whatever we make at the door, and most of our shows have sold out, so after eight shows, you’re left with </span>
  <em>
    <span>this.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>She jabbed the pencil at the paper. “Then you add up everything you’ve made from merch sales, which I’m guessing is a lot, since you started with like, twenty boxes of it and now you’re only down to three. Assuming you’ve priced everything fairly, that’s more than double the amount you’re earning at the door, so add those up…” Haley’s pencil danced across the paper. “Then subtract all that you’ve spent on food, cab rides, stuff from the convenience store, anything that Tina’s not covering or that you don’t get for free…” She pushed the pencil behind her ear and lifted the pad up, squinting at it. “I mean, there’s some guesswork involved since I don’t know what your individual budgets are, and how much you’re paying out of pocket, but if you start from a standard rate, you’re left with…” She turned the page and showed where she’d written the total sum. “This.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “No,” Anthony breathed. He took the pad from Haley and stared frozen at it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      “What?” Cassandra said, his silence unnerving her. “Anthony, what is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Not only can we pay back the rental company…” Anthony swallowed and steadied himself, his voice only slightly louder than a whisper. “We have enough left over to book our own hotel rooms in New York. If we want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       A grin blossomed on Cassandra’s face. “No way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Way,” Haley replied. “It checks out. If you hadn’t sold so much merch, you’d be in the red.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      “I don’t believe it!” Anthony leapt from his seat, ecstatic. “Saved by the T-shirt sales!!” He held out his hand for Haley to high five, before turning to Cassandra. Cassandra shot to her feet, expecting another high five- but instead, Anthony grabbed her and spun her in a tight, shaky circle, laughing happily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “We did it, Cass!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      “I’m so glad!” Cassandra squeezed Anthony hard before he let her go and turned to Marc. “Marc, wake up!” He shook Marc’s shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Only if… it’s important,” Marc mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “This </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>important!” Anthony grabbed Marc’s face and turned it towards him. “Your little lady just saved our band!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Haley shook her head. “Whoever made all that merch for you saved your band.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      “Huh?” George piped up as he emerged from the end of the bus, wiping his dripping hands. “I missed something again, didn’t I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       While Anthony filled George in, Cassandra sank back down, trying to clear the giddiness from her head. The most important part of Anthony’s speech had been </span>
  <em>
    <span>if we want. </span>
  </em>
  <span>There were more worthwhile endeavors on which to spend money- such as studio time, once the tour ended. But for now, knowing that they had money was enough. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>And to think it’s all because of the merch Wayne and Garth made. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The ones she’d been forced to save in Portland had ended up saving her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      Just as Cassandra had expected, Atlanta was hot. Stepping off the bus felt like turning on a hair dryer in her face. Thankfully she was dressed for the weather, in a navy blue ruffled tank top over a pair of black jean shorts. She adjusted her sunglasses and peered at the hotel’s front entrance. Tina and Supermarine had gone inside to check in, but the rest of the schedule until 6:30 that evening was up in the air. All Cassanda had to do was find something to occupy herself for the next six hours. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Easier said than done.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>       She strode across the parking lot, intent on scoring a brochure from the hotel lobby. Maybe one would offer an ideal suggestion regarding Atlanta’s summertime activities. However, before Cassandra had reached the entrance, Tamanna and Sara came strolling out, arm in arm. A gasp emerged from Tamanna’s throat. “Oh my god! It’s rock sensation Cassandra Wong!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      “Oh my god!” Cassandra exclaimed with the same mock-excitement, pointing wildly at the couple. “It’s Sara Radner and Tamanna from Supermarine!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Tamanna laughed as she reached Cassandra’s side. “Tamanna Sahni, nice to meet you.” She held out her hand, and Cassandra squeezed it before stepping back to survey the two. Just like Cassandra, Tamanna and Sara were dressed for the heat. They both wore jean cutoffs and tank tops, though Tamanna’s was white and Sara’s was the maroon top that Cassandra had often seen her wear. Tamanna wore both sunglasses and a large white hat with a floppy brim, but Sara wore neither, the hastily-applied sunscreen on her face her only protection from the deadly rays above.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>        “Where are you guys off to?” Cassandra asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Hittin’ the town.” Tamanna let go of Sara’s arm to tilt her hat back. “We’re gonna get lunch and go shopping.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Yeah?” Cassandra tried not to sound overly interested, but she couldn’t help it. She hadn’t hung out with Tamanna or Sara in days, and was dying for company. </span>
  <em>
    <span>As long as they’re not on a date… </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Where were you thinking of going?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “There’s this bookstore we found last time we were here that Sara wanted to check out,” Tamanna answered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Sara smiled softly. “I promised her a trip to Circuit City later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Yeah.” Tamanna lowered her sunglasses, revealing a warm pair of golden eyes. “If you want, you can join us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Cassandra’s heart lifted. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Thank god they still want me around. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Either they didn’t know what she had done to Leigh, or they didn’t care. She nodded. “I would love to join you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Great!” Tamanna laughed. “Maybe you can help us pick a place to eat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “I wanted barbecue,” Sara explained, “but the menu they gave us at the front desk didn’t have any vegetarian options.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>        Cassandra’s hands slid to her hips. “What are you in the mood for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Anything that’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>barbecue.” As if by accident, Tamanna’s fingers swiped against Sara’s face, rubbing in the sunscreen that Sara hadn’t quite managed to blend. “Let’s just figure it out along the way.” She stepped off the pavement, Sara trailing behind her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Like we always do anyway?” she commented.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>“Exactly.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       After a heated debate, Tamanna, Sara, and Cassandra finally settled down on the patio at a Mexican restuarant. The blue sky overhead, as well as the impeccable fajitas she’d ordered, left Cassandra feeling happier than she had in days. For once she wasn’t dwelling on Leigh or the band or what would happen at the end of the tour. All she’d needed was a change of scenery, no matter how small.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “It feels </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>nice to be out and about,” Cassandra declared in the hopes of starting a conversation. Across the table, Sara nodded wildly as she reached for her napkin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Yeah, we haven’t seen you around much lately,” Tamanna said. “Has everything been okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       There it was again, that tricky question. Cassandra shrugged, reluctant to lay all her baggage on the table. “It’s been up and down. I’m feeling pretty great now, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      “I know what you mean.” Sara wiped her chin, her eyes crinkling up with her smile. “Can’t get enough of this weather.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      “If you burn to a crisp, you can get enough of it,” Tamanna teased. Her hand moved under the table. From Sara’s sudden jolt, Cassandra guessed that Tamanna had pinched her knee. “You need SPF one thousand to keep you covered, babe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      “Come </span>
  <em>
    <span>on.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” As if in retaliation, Sara grabbed a tortilla chip from Tamanna’s plate and dunked it in the ramekin of salsa that had come with her meal. Tamanna burst out laughing. “One serving wasn’t enough for you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      Sara crunched away happily, pretending to ignore Tamanna, although Cassandra saw her side-eyeing her. Once she swallowed, she said, “The food was really good though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      “You’re telling me.” Tamanna picked up the half-eaten bean burrito on her plate. “I’d have </span>
  <em>
    <span>killed </span>
  </em>
  <span>for this burrito last night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      “Wait, so…” Sara settled her chin on her fist and tried to adopt a studious look, but the corners of her mouth kept twitching upwards. “You’re a vegetarian, but you’d have </span>
  <em>
    <span>killed someone? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Doesn’t that make you, uh, a little hypocritical?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Tamanna stared at Sara for a long moment, a smile of her own threatening to derail her long-suffering expression. Then she set her burrito down, wiped her hands on her napkin, and pushed Sara’s face away. Sara collapsed over the table, her head on her folded arms, shaking with quiet laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “You see what I have to deal with?” Tamanna said, not even bothering to hide her own mirth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Cassandra managed to chuckle. “She’s quite a handful.” It was starting to dawn on her why she’d been avoiding Tamanna and Sara recently. The two were so perfectly suited for each other, so happy together, that they seemed a brutal mockery of everything that Cassandra had gone through and was going through, relationship wise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “I’m surprised you two haven’t killed each </span>
  <em>
    <span>other </span>
  </em>
  <span>yet.” Cassandra sipped her Diet Pepsi. “When I was on the road with my ex, things didn’t go so well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Tamanna picked up her burrito again. “We’ve been on the road before. There’s a ton of stuff we could be fighting about, but we worked it all out the last go-around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Even though we weren’t dating then,” Sara pointed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      “For me, dating makes it </span>
  <em>
    <span>easier.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tamanna winked, before devouring another chunk of her burrito. Cassandra smiled, but her mind was whirling. Rarely had she ever sought relationship advice, preferring to navigate it on her own, but now she found herself clamoring to hear more from Tamanna and Sara. What could she have done to keep her relationship with Wayne from falling apart on the road? And did they have any insight into her current situation with Leigh?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “So, uh…” Cassandra began. “How did you, uh…” </span>
  <em>
    <span>How did you know that you were attracted to each other </span>
  </em>
  <span>was on her lips, but with the expectant gazes from Sara and Tamanna, Cassandra chickened out. She already knew the ins and outs of the principles of attraction, even though she’d mostly felt it in regards to men. She couldn’t doubt herself any longer by denying that she was attracted to Leigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Yeah?” Tamanna said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      Cassandra released a breath. “How did you guys meet, and… when did you start dating?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Tamanna clasped her hands together, exhaling as she glanced over at Sara. Sara lanced right back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “I think we knew </span>
  <em>
    <span>of </span>
  </em>
  <span>each other first,” Tamanna said. “In high school...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “She was in band and I was in chorus,” Sara said. “Just for two years.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “I was in jazz band, so we didn’t really interact much,” Tamanna explained. “The concert choir’s block was at the beginning of the day, and jazz band was at the end. I think we only really saw each other at concerts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “I knew who you were, though,” Sara clarified.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “So you became friends after high school?” Cassandra said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Tamanna shook her head, then amended herself- “I mean, sort of. Obviously we were friends…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “...before we started dating,” Sara finished. She grinned smugly at Tamanna, who only rolled her eyes before reaching out to touch her nose. “Yeah, it started when I answered an ad that the band put out. They wanted a guitarist, and…” She shrugged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “And you were in the band before you started dating?” Cassandra said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Yeah.” Tamanna turned to Sara. “It’s been a little over a year now, does that sound right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Sara unleashed a mock-pouty frown. “You forgot our anniversary?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      “Oh, get off my case.” Tamanna wrapped her arm around Sara and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head. “And what a year it’s been!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Yeah, it’s been alright,” Sara said, waving her hand from side to side. “What about you, Cassandra?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Me?” Cassandra blurted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      Unaware of the can of worms she was opening, Sara blinked slowly at Cassandra. “You went on the road with your ex?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Oh… yeah.” Without really meaning to, Cassandra glanced down at her hands. “We split up when we got to Portland. We had a… disagreement.” Talking about Portland had gotten easier by the day, as the wound healed, but Cassandra still wasn’t eager to dive into further details.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” There was a genuine note of sympathy in Tamanna’s voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “No, I’m fine.” Cassandra shook her head. “We weren’t meant to be. I haven’t even thought about him since…” Her words trailed off abruptly as she hit a verbal roadblock. Almost two weeks had passed since Crucial Taunt had returned to Portland. And yet it felt like years. When Wayne and Garth had left the tour, Cassandra had felt as if the whole tour was ruined. And now she’d allowed her complicated relationship with Leigh to ruin the rest of the tour. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck that! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Time was running out. So many days Cassandra had spent flip-flopping and waffling over what she was to do, but no more. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No more. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span>Tamanna chuckled quietly, unaware of how Cassandra had stopped in her tracks. “It adds up. I can't even remember what I did yesterday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Yeah,” Sara added. “Everything blurs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Cassandra nodded. “You got that right.” Everything definitely blurred when she refused to focus on anything beyond the madness in her head. In that moment, Cassandra made a promise. Either talk to Leigh and clear the air before the end of the tour forced them to part, or put her emotions aside and enjoy the remaining four days of the tour as if nothing had ever happened. One option loomed large above the other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Tamanna polished off her burrito in one gulp, before clearing her throat. “A word of warning, Cassandra- the post-tour blues are gonna hit you hard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      “It’s like jet lag,” Sara said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Yeah,” Tamanna agreed. “You’re not going to want to do anything for a week. But you need to fight it. The more you lie around, the better it’ll feel, and the less you’ll want to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span>“The stress dreams don’t end, too,” Sara added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “I haven’t had any stress dreams,” Cassandra said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      Sara winced. “Good for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      “I mean, this is assuming you’ve had a good time on tour.” Tamanna peered closely at Cassandra, concern reentering her voice. “You’ve had a good time, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Cassandra wished she could brush the question off, but deep inside, she yielded. Something about these two women compelled her to share more of herself than she ordinarily would.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “It hasn’t been perfect.” Cassandra kept her voice light, not wanting to drag down Sara and Tamnna. “But still, I’m so grateful that you allowed my band to join your tour.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Well, we’re grateful for the best opening act our band’s ever had,” Tamanna said. Her eyes sparkled under the brim of her hat. “Here’s to D.C., CBGB, and beyond.”</span>
</p><p><span>        “Cheers!” Cassandra lifted her glass into the air, and Tamanna and Sara followed suit. </span><em><span>And beyond… and beyond…</span></em> <em><span>Let’s hope so.</span></em></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       The Aquarian was not the kind of bookshop Cassandra had envisioned from Tamanna’s mention of it. As soon as she stepped inside, the sweet smell of incense wafted over her, followed by the soothing tones of a plucked zither. From behind the counter, an older woman waved a ring-covered hand. “Hi, welcome to the Aquarian! We’ve got some new books on sale so feel free to browse. If you have any questions, just ring for me at the desk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Thanks,” Tamanna said, while Sara gave a thumb’s up, already heading for a wall of candles in various colors. Tamanna wandered off towards the incense, leaving Cassandra alone. She glanced at the display of books by the window that the old woman had indicated, scanning each title. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cosmic Ordering… Raising Your Vibrations… Mindfulness and You…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span>“Let me know if you need help finding anything,” the shopkeeper said as she lifted a small box onto the counter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>        Cassandra waved her off. “I’m fine.” She swung her gaze through the rest of the shop. Crystals lined the bookshelves, and posters adorned the walls, detailing moon phases and yoga poses. From the ceiling, dreamcatchers dangled. It simultaneously amused and disappointed Cassandra to spot various bits and pieces of Cantonese culture, shoved into a general mishmash alongside other elements. Clearly this shop catered to Americans who were attracted to the mystique of foreign spiritualism, without understanding it themselves. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hopefully Sara’s not one of them. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>       Walking through the store, Cassandra ran into the subject of her musings. Sara smiled over her shoulder, stepping away from a display case full of jewelry.  “What do you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “About the shop?” Cassandra said, coming to stand over Sara’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Sara shook her head and held up a pair of earrings. The colors of the thin, angular diamond-shapes jumped out at Cassandra- red and blue and yellow and green, woven into a complex geometric pattern. They were the type of earrings that Cassandra would have bought for herself before she injured her earlobe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Tamanna would like these,” Sara murmured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Then you should get them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Sara nodded and transferred the earrings into her other hand. Under her arm, Cassandra noticed she’d already shoved a package of incense, and a few scented candles. She followed Sara as she moved away from the jewelry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “I want to see what tarot decks they have…” Now that Sara and Tamanna were apart, Cassandra noticed that her voice had softened, her posture becoming more slouched. She reminded Cassandra of a flower blooming in reverse, retreating back into the bud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “I think I saw some tarot decks at the counter,” Cassandra said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Without a word, Sara darted down one aisle of bookshelves, heading for the front of the store. Cassandra trailed along, the incense tickling her nose. Tamanna seemed to have disappeared into a back corner. Given that she hadn’t seemed overly enthusiastic about coming here, Cassandra had to guess that she was humoring her girlfriend. It struck Cassandra that that was how relationships went. Sacrifices had to be made for the one you loved, even small ones, such as giving up your day to indulge their interests. But the compromise had to be fair for both parties, as Sara’s promise to take Tamanna to Circuit City proved. Cassandra had a feeling she wouldn’t find that philosophy between the pages of one of the Aquarian’s books.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>        By the time Cassandra caught up to Sara, she was already at the counter, poring over each card deck. Cassandra observed each one without a word. Cat-themed, tattoo designs, astrological signs… Sara snatched up the last one as soon as her eyes landed on it. “This is the deck I brought on tour.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “I didn’t know you had one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      “We should do a reading sometime. Could be fun.” Sara flipped over the package. “If you’re into that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Cassandra shrugged lightly. “I could be.” Tarot wasn’t something she put much stock in, but she didn’t mind spending more time with Sara.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “I mean… I’m not really into it the way some people are,” Sara explained. “Same with astrology. I have a ton of friends who are into it…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Astrology is all bunk to me,” Cassandra said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Sara laughed. “I don’t really believe in it, but it can be fun.” She reached for the bell by the counter and gave it a ring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Shortly after, Sara’s chosen items were wrapped up in a bag, and Cassandra had followed her out into the sun. She pulled her sunglasses down over her eyes while Sara stood squinting and fanning herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>        “Is Tamanna still in there?” Cassandra asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Think so. She might be reading.” Sara swung her shopping bag back and forth. A few moments passed before she spoke again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “I was thinking about what you asked us at lunch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Yeah?” Cassandra turned to face Sara. “You mean, what I asked about you and Tamanna?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Sara nodded. Her gaze, which she tended to avert, landed directly on Cassandra. Though Cassandra knew she couldn’t see past her sunglasses, she still found her stare disconcerting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Before Tamanna… I never went out with anyone.” Sara’s quiet voice carried directly to Cassandra’s ears. “I thought… maybe dating wasn’t for me, and then she came along, and…” A blush crept to Sara’s cheeks. “I just knew.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Though Cassandra knew Sara was making a valuable point, she couldn’t keep herself from interrupting. “But </span>
  <em>
    <span>how </span>
  </em>
  <span>did you know? How did you know that she… that you… that you were in love with her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       The bold assumption could have embarrassed Sara, but she didn't withdraw or appear to take offense.  Her response, when it came, was matter-of-fact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “She was the only person I wanted to give up my independence for.” As Sara spoke, her tone grew warmer. “The only person I could’ve, um… let into my shell. The reason it works is that… she’s independent too, but we’re independent </span>
  <em>
    <span>together, </span>
  </em>
  <span>if that makes sense.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>Independent… together. </span>
  </em>
  <span>A series of images paraded through Cassandra’s head. Tamanna and Sara sitting together on the bus, in the hotel dining halls, backstage at the bars… Until now, she’d imagined them as inseparable, two halves of a whole. But now she realized her view was incorrect. Tamanna and Sara were two separate people who had just happened to come into each other’s orbit and accentuate each other’s best traits instead of erasing them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Which, Cassandra suddenly realized, was exactly what </span>
  <em>
    <span>she </span>
  </em>
  <span>wanted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Yeah,” she said slowly. “I guess that does make sense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “I… I just wanted to let you know.” Sara drew closer. “It took me years to find someone I clicked with, and even though I thought I never would, I did. So… I don’t know about you and your ex, but… I’m just saying, it’s easy to feel discouraged, but I think everything will work out in time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      Cassandra stared at Sara. </span>
  <em>
    <span>If only you knew how much I hope that to be true. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She tried to find something to say, but at that moment Tamanna strolled out of the bookshop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “You were just gonna leave me?!” she cried, though her sparkling eyes showed that she was fooling around. Immediately Sara lit up. She slipped her arm around Tamanna’s waist, while Tamanna ruffled her hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Now it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>turn,” she stated simply. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Tamanna grinned. “That’s right. Circuit City is right down the street.” They departed arm-in-arm, while Cassandra walked along, trying to process all that she’d come to realize over the course of the day. One fact stood out above all else:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      As soon as possible, she would </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>to talk to Leigh.</span>
</p>
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